


Leviathan Blossom

by ghostnovelist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Anna Milton, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Michael (Supernatural), Alpha Naomi (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Angels Are Known, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angels, Angels Have Visible Wings (Supernatural), Angels as Novaks (Supernatural), Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Archangel Lucifer (Supernatural), Beta Charlie Bradbury, Beta Gabriel (Supernatural), Betrayal, Brainwashing, Breaking Up & Making Up, Case Fic, Castiel Deserves Better (Supernatural), Claiming, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester Wears Castiel's Trenchcoat, Drug Addiction, Drugs, False Accusations, Feminization, Forced Feminization, Human Dean Winchester, Knotting, Loss of Trust, Lucifer Feels, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Dean Winchester, Omega Lucifer (Supernatural), Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), Possessive Sex, Protective Lucifer, Rejection, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Tags Contain Spoilers, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Trust Issues, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostnovelist/pseuds/ghostnovelist
Summary: Lightning sparks with no sound, lighting the house's dark interior.If Dean hadn't already drank half a cup of this liquid addiction, he imagines he would be more frightened. Dean is about to go for another sip when he hears it.Footsteps, heavy and headed towards the kitchen. Dean can't pick up a scent and the hairs on his neck raise.A sharp intake of breath.A low rumble.Then,"O–meg–a."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 222





	1. The Dotted Line

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Chasing Doors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500942) by [LittleAngelCassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAngelCassie/pseuds/LittleAngelCassie). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can feel the growl in his chest.

Winter has always been Dean's favorite season.

The snow that falls is thick, heavy and layers the city under a plush, white blanket; it makes his nose and ears go pink with the cold and strengthens the ice that his heart is encapsulated in; kids go out and build small, shitty snowmen while their parents drink spiked eggnog and lie about Santa Claus; he can watch ice skaters glide along an open pond in the park and he smoke his fifth cigarette of the day while sitting on a bench that might freeze off his testicles.

He blinks lazily as he trains his eyes to follow the lithe, agile ice skater do fancy twirls and jumps while everyone "Oo's" and "Aww's". A crease develops between his eyebrows and deep, under dust and avoidance in his hippocampus, rests a memory of Sam holding onto Dean as his Bambi legs touched ice for the first time. A tug on Dean's bellybutton tells him he needs to try harder at forgetting.

The bench he's sat on gets dusted off with a thick, black glove then creaks with an added, unwelcome presence. Dean exhales, the taste of nicotine and paper heavy on his tongue. 

"I don't work for him anymore." Dean says, watching one of the skaters fall and everyone around them wince in sympathy. Their nose becomes pink then red as blood begins to slowly drip from their right nostril but they have it off with a smile. 

Dean brings the cigarette between his lips and inhales. Sam acted like that too. 

Henricksen shuffles awkwardly beside him, his boots crunching the snow beneath them and his Alpha scent thick with bitter coffee which gives Dean the tell he needs to know that Henricksen hates this just as much as he does. Maybe he knows that Dean can dispose of his body in twelve different without leaving a trace. Ah, but Dean's just speculating.

"He needs your help." 

Dean snorts, allowing the smoke to stutter as it flows out of his mouth. 

"I. Don't. Work. For him. Anymore." Dean says slowly because he always knew Henricksen was a little dull in the head. He makes his way to get up from the cold bench. 

"It's about Leviathan Blossom," Henricksen cuts in quickly, grabbing onto Dean's elbow. 

Dean's hackles raise and he snatches his arm back before plopping down with a huff and taking another lung full of smoke. 

"We have reason to believe that the Novaks are making the drug, specifically the Angel of Thursday seeing as he was the first one to come into contact with it." Henricksen hands Dean a black manila folder. 

"How do you know he came into contact with it?" Dean questions as he flips through the data entries. 

**Subject: Leviathan Blossom**

**Speculated Image:**

**Disaster Rating: Poughkeepsie**

**Discovered: [ INFORMATION VOIDED ]**

**Leviathan Blossoms have a close resemblance to Devil's Fingers aka Clathrus archeri. It is unknown as to where they come from but is connected to the wealthy and rich.** ** [ INFORMATION VOIDED ]** **owner of** ** [ INFORMATION VOIDED ]** **Enterprises, is known to have connections to the plant but it is unspecified as to why or how.**

**It is known to [ INFORMATION VOIDED ] its subjects and the user is [ INFORMATION VOIDED ] by the person who gave to them. **

**It has been recently recorded that Angel of Thursday, leader of the Novaks, was subjected to the drug but it is unknown how they came into contact with it or what the symptoms are. The Angel of Thursday holds the most powerful position among the Novaks as God's Successor but nobody has ever seen their face.**

Dean's lets out a low whistle and closes the folder. The threat level is Poughkeepsie, huh? 

Leviathan Blossom has been kept lowkey until now, there's reports of people shooting Governors unprovoked as well as decorated suicides that the police are keeping under wraps. All everyone knows is that the flower can be grounded up into powder, something similar to cocaine or LSD. 

"Anonymous tip. If we are able to get Angel of Thursday down to court or the station on something as small as a parking ticket, we would have the opportunity to question him further." 

Dean takes another drag and leans his head against the back of the bench, feeling his lungs deflate and seeing the smoke dance with the snowflakes. His eyes jump around at the sky while he thinks. 

"You want to have a trial against the most powerful Angels in the world?" 

"That's the plan." 

"Where do I come into this?" 

"The Novaks are looking for a companion Omega for Angel of Thursday. If you can get close to him–" 

"I could get deglanded if they find out what I'm up to." Dean hisses, snapping his head towards Henricksen. "How do you even know they're looking?" he rolls his eyes back up to the sky.

"It is widely known that the Angel of Thursday cannot take God's power unless they have a mate and heir. There has been talk of Omegas coming from the Novak Mansion with their scent...different once they've been rejected. It isn't public but there's talkers here and there." Henricksen says in a hushed whisper, his fingers twitching as his eyes carefully jump from person to person. 

"Different? My scent–" Dean stops himself then scoffs, rolling his head side to side as he lets out a humorless chuckle. "You want me because I'm Scent-Bleak. If I go and get rejected nothing about me would change and I would have information." 

_Clever._ Dean muses. 

"I'm not a Hunter anymore." Dean puts out his cigarette on the folder then tosses it back on Henricksen's lap. 

"Once a Hunter, always a Hunter. Their phone number is on the back as well as the requirements." Henricksen mutters softly before leaving the folder in the middle of them then getting up and leaving.

Dean glances at the folder out of the side of his eyes then sucks his teeth and shoves it between his chest and the warmth of his leather jacket.

It's a challenge. The Novaks are the most powerful family as well as the first Angel's directly connected to God himself.

There's five of them: one Omega, one Beta, and three Alphas. Omega Lucifer, Beta Gabriel, Alpha Anna, Alpha Michael, who is mated to Beta Adam Milligan. Then finally, the Angel of Thursday, who is, of course, pure Alpha.

Dean doesn't even go to church, how is he supposed to be a companion for an Angel of the Lord when the last time he was on his knees he was definitely not asking for God's forgiveness.

Clenching his jaw once more, Dean stands, the hairs on his neck stand and he tenses as he brings to walk home. 

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_Crunch._

_..._

_..._

There's gum on Dean's shoe. 

Ducking his head, Dean quickly blends with a rowdy group of caffeinated collage girls with his shoulders hunched and ducks into an alleyway. It looks like he's taking the long way home.

By the time Dean makes it to the snow covered, metal stairs of his apartment, his head is pounding and his legs are itchy from walking too much. His cheeks, nose, and neck are red with exhaustion and his eyelashes are clumped together by melted snow. Dean grips the iron railing hard enough to the point where his knuckles go white then begins his ascend up to stairs.

Dean falls head first into his apartment, legs unsteady and body shaking from the low temperature. He kicks the door closed with the sole of his boot before taking them off.

The apartment is shabby; the fan makes a weird noise as it spins, the floorboards creak, most of the outlets are broken as well as his heater, and no matter how hard he tries to clean it out, the smell of dead animals still linger in his fridge. 

Dean shrugs off his jacket, throwing it over the head of the couch before falling back on the worn cushions with a huff and slamming the damp folder down on the coffee table.

Dean reaches under one of the cushions to pull out a half empty pack of Pall Malls and an old, bulky flip phone that has **HUNTER** in bold letters on the back.

The Omega pulls out one stick and lets it hang on his dry bottom lip while he flips open the cellular and punches out a number from memory.

"Hel–" 

"I want Sammy's rehab paid for the next three months and you will get updates on my terms." Dean hangs up, takes out the sim card to rip it in half, then puts in another before calling the number again. 

"Deal!" Henricksen shouts.

"I will contact you." Dean hangs up then repeats his previous action. 

He doesn't work for John Winchester. He _doesn't._

Reaching for a lighter that resides on the floor, Dean lights his cigarette and sags against the couch while he enjoys the temporary high that nicotine gives him. 

He could die doing this. He could get deglanded if he's not careful. He won't be able to see Sammy if things go wrong, not that Sammy even remembers who he is. 

Rubbing his eye with the knuckle of his thumb, Dean leans forward with his elbows on his knees then flips open the folder to find the Novak's number.

Dean reaches for the phone, a more modernized version, in his back pocket then types out the number with shaky fingers. 

"Hello, this is the Novak Residence. How may I help you?" a calm, feminine voice asks.

Dean puts his hand over the mic and silently gags–seriously? they have someone to answer their phone?–before talking into the receiver in a deep drawl.

"Good evenin', I was just wonderin' about that position as an Omega companion." Dean kicks his feet up on the table.

"If you are concerned about whether or not the position is open then the answer would be in your favor. As you know the requirements state that you have to be fertile and scent compatible with Mr. Novak. For any further information, your presence would need to be required at the Novak Residence." 

Dean uses his thumb nail to push down his cuticles. "Thank you kindly, sweetheart. Have a good day now–" 

"Your name." she interrupts smoothly. 

Dean clenches his jaw. How long has it been since he used his real name? "Dean Winchester." 

"It is reccomend that you get here in fifteen minutes. We will see you soon, Mr. Winchester."

Dial tone rings in Dean's ear. 

* * *

Dean's not sure if he should kill himself or his father. _Both,_ he thinks bitterly, _definetly both._

The Novaks live in a manor. A very large, very expensive looking, manor that has Dean questioning every move he's made up until now

The driveway that curves to the side of the manor is paved with dark stone; a fountain rains water into a puddle like shape below it has flower bushes and fancy cement seating around it; the rest of the area is a blinding white because of the snow. The manor itself has pale yellow walls as it's exteriors and fancy pillars around the wrap-around deck to keep it stable. A room balcony extends itself over the curved driveway, held up by the same white pillars. The windows are covered, almost like it was painted over in a creamy white colour that reminds him of alfredo sauce. 

Dean slows down Baby underneath the extended balcony and a red head in a neatly pressed suit with a kind smile opens the door for him. Dean has to stop himself from almost decking her. 

She smells of fresh comic books and ink but her scent is light and doesn't irritate his nose. Beta then. 

"Hello. I believe we spoke on the phone, Mr. Winchester." she bows her head politely once Dean steps out of the car. Her nose twitches and she glances at Dean curiously. 

"Yeah, and you are?" 

She blinks a few times, surprised. "Ms. Bradbury, sir. Let me introduce you to the Novaks." 

"You're just gonna leave her here?" Dean asks once Bradbury turns around and begins walking up the steps to two big, glass doors with white rimming.

"We reccomend that the cars stay out here if the Omega has been rejected." she informs politely but her eyes shine with humor. Dean's lip quirks up and he nods once before following her. 

"So, can I get a name, Red?" Dean asks as they walk along tiled floor. Her heels clicking with each step. 

Her eyebrows raise, "Guys aren't my type. Not that you aren't attractive, sir, I just–" 

"You don't have to explain your sexuality to me, Red. I was just asking for a name and for what it's worth," he stops them before leaning down to her ear. "I'm strictly dickly." he winks and a grin spreads on her lips. 

"Charlie, you were meant to bring the Omega to the living room. Not ask him questions about who shot first in Star Wars." a woman with bouncy, blonde hair chastises before kissing Charlie on the cheek. 

"It was Han." Charlie and Dean say in unison. 

"Great, now there's two of you. Charlie, do your job." the blonde gives another kiss to Charlie's cheek before sparing one look at Dean then leaving. 

Dean clenches his jaw and casts his eyes downward once they start walking again. Blondie was a Beta as well. A Demon Beta. 

"Do you always mix business with pleasure?" Dean asks casually. Charlie's cheeks tint pink and they come to a stop in front of two large graywood doors.

"Meg doesn't work here. She's friends with–um. Anyway, when you go inside you may be asked some questions. No, I can't specify what they are. Gabriel, Lucifer, and Anna will be asking the questions. Please have your cellphone turned off and given to me. Thank you. The interview will last fifteen minutes and if you are approved then the Angel of Thursday will test you. Do you understand, Mr. Winchester?" 

Dean rolls his shoulders then nods. Good thing he didn't skip out on showering the cigarette stink away. 

Charlie turns around to open the door. 

"Excuse me, I would like to introduce Mr. Winchester." Charlie bows her head respectively and three pairs of eyes land on Dean. 

Curious. Lustful. Bored. 

Alpha. Alpha. Beta. 

Their scents are thick and heavy with power that Dean has to suppress a sneeze.

The three Angels are gathered on a pristine, white couch and they share look Dean up and down with a calculating glance. Dean's eyes flicker to Lucifer and the Angel falters in their discussion then turns away. 

"Thank you, Charlie. You may go." Anna smiles politely. Charlie gives Dean a discreet thumbs up before leaving the room. 

"Take a seat, Mr. Winchester." Anna gestures to a mimic couch across from them. Dean sits with his back straight and hands placed clasped on his lap. 

"You're wearing scent blockers." Gabriel points a saliva coated lollipop in his direction and raises his eyebrows. 

"You aren't the ones scenting me why should I let my Omega reveal itself to you?" Defensive. He's being defensive. Breathe, Winchester. 

Fortunately, Lucifer cuts in. "It's proper and respectful to your Omega. Gabriel meant no harm, Mr. Winchester." Dean levels Lucifer with a look before putting on a kind smile. 

"It's fine. I simply don't want to stink up the place with my scent especially if I might not stay." 

Anna makes an appreciative sound before looking down at the file in front of her. "I hope you don't mind but we do have to take precautions when doing this type of thing so we asked Lucifer to dig up some information on you." 

Dean nods once.

"There isn't much on you. You have a brother," Dean flinches and Lucifer looks down. Gabriel and Anna consider them both for a minute before Gabriel picks up on the reading.

"His name is Sam Winchester, an Omega in Glenwood Springs..." Gabriel trails off before he clears his throat. "Your family history looks clean and you seem to not of a speck of dirt on your personal record. We got a quote from your previous boss, Bobby Singer, who called you efficent, hardworking, and stubborn as all hell. You've worked for Bobby Singer for 16 years, any reason why?"

"Family business. Started when I was sixteen but Bobby wanted me to branch out." 

And by "branch out" Dean means John dragged him from Bobby's place by his collar and forced him to work at The Bunker.

"Usually this interview would be over but our time is limited and you are it. Your records are clean and there's no hidden family in Cuba or elsewhere and you show no signs of weakness. We are going to ask you to sign a contract of confidentiality and if you were to break any of the rules or regulations on this contract then we have every right to erase you from this Earth." Anna tilts her head and smiles. 

Dean's fingers twitch. "I understand." 

Lucifer snaps his fingers and a piece of paper appears on the coffee table before them. 

Dean clenches his jaw before leaning over reading over the contract. 

  1. _You, Dean Winchester, can not talk, email, text, video chat, or any other way of communicating, information to anyone. That includes family. Your new phone will be issued to you and can only be used to call the Novaks._
  2. _You, Dean Winchester, will live here for however long the Angel of Thursday will have you and if he decides he no longer wants you we will pay for you to move back into your previous apartment for two months and insure that you have a job._
  3. _You, Dean Winchester, will not bring anything from your previous apartment to the Novak Residence unless allowed to do so._
  4. _You, Dean Winchester, will never ever see the Angel of Thursday's face using any form of light and can only see him at night._
  5. _You, Dean Winchester, will help the Angel of Thursday with his ruts, provide children for him, and mate with him._
  6. _If Dean Winchester were to be in a situation where he gets his heat, he will receive help from the Angel of Thursday only at night but has the option of service Alphas to help him during the day._
  7. _You, Dean Winchester, are signing this contract willingly to become an companion Omega for the Angel of Thursday._



"These rules are able to change under the Angel of Thursday's order and they are simply ground rules. There are sub rules to these ones." Lucifer informs. 

Dean takes a deep breath and signs the dotted line. 

The paper vanishes and the tension in the room deflates. The Angels stand and Dean follows in suit. 

"We will have someone go to your apartment and gather up your things for disposal. Is there anything of importance?" Anna raises her eyebrows. 

"No, ma'am." 

"Great! Our brother is currently sleeping and it's quiet early in the day so it's not like you would be able to see him right away. Charlie will show you to your new room and please, don't be so formal, we're soon to be family!" Anna reaches over and hugs him tightly. Her scent is thick with sweetened roses and heated milk. 

Arousal. 

Dean bristles but hugs back then Gabriel and Anna leave. 

Charlie walks in with a wide grin. "Way to go, Dean!" she punches his arm before her face startles when she looks over Dean's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer. I didn't see you–" 

"It's fine, Charlie. You're off duty for now, I will show Dean to his room." 

"Of course. Goodbye, Lucifer." Charlie bows and shoots Dean another grin before scampering off.

Lucifer walks out of the room, not looking behind him to see if Dean is following. 

"Not much for formalities are you?" Dean mutters while turning his head to look at the elegant paintings hung up on textured, blue wallpaper. 

"It's unnecessary. We don't enjoy it." Lucifer shrugs walking up a couple of stairs then turning into a hall with plants hanging on from the ceiling and stopping at a foggy, glass panel door with black lining.

Dean stops behind him, eyebrows frowned. Lucifer takes a deep breath then turns around to look Dean in the eyes. 

"How is he?" 

"How do you think?" Dean hisses.

"I never meant–" 

"He doesn't even remember my name because of you!" 

"I love him! I never wanted that to happen. Please, De,"

"Do _not_ call me that like we're friends." 

Lucifer bites his lip and nods sadly. "I haven't been able to visit him lately. Dean, I love him, you have to believe that I would never–I love him." 

Dean's jaw works and he sighs. 

"It's your name, you know. He sits there and keeps saying "Luke" over and over and not once does he say my name." 

"I'm–" 

"Sorry can't bring Sam back, Luci." the nickname slips out and they both stare at each other.

Tears well up in Lucifer's eyes before he chuckles wetly and moves out of the way of the door. Before Lucifer walks back down the hallway, he whispers. 

"You forget that we three used to be friends. I know why you're here and no, we aren't making the drug. I trust that you will find out who is." 

Dean watches his friend leave towards the stairs before opening the door to his room. Dean slides down the door once he's in his room and chokes out a dry sob.

He's fine. He's fine. He's _fine._

Dean takes off his jacket and throws it over a victorian styled chair before using the pocket knife in his boot to cut open the thin insertion he left before then pulls out the manila folder, the bulky phone, and a small bag of sim cards.

Dean sits down on the backless futon before sliding a sim card into the phone and texting Henricksen about his status. Not waiting for a reply, Dean takes out the card then shoves the items inside the drawer of the vanity.

Dean kicks off his boots then stands up and walks sluggishly to the wide bed before falling down face first into fluffy sheets.

He doesn't even remember to ask about the Angel's name before sleep takes over. 

* * *

Thunder is what wakes Dean up. 

It makes him jolt and groan and his head pound with the noise. Dean squints at the window and makes out heavy snow on the windowsill and bursts of lightning in the darkness. 

Dean huffs before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He should look around, see if there's anything worthy he should take note of. 

It doesn't take long for Dean to find the dimly lit kitchen, and it takes even less time for him to find and use the coffee maker. 

Dean's eyes roll back into his head once he takes his first sip. He guesses rich people aren't always deprived of happiness. Dean pulls out a stool from underneath the marble island and sits while he stares out the big, glass windows. 

Lightning sparks with no sound, brightening the house's dark interior. The flash almost makes Dean flinch and his eyes close but the blue, purplish hue has too much of his attention.

If Dean hadn't already drank half a cup of this liquid addiction, he imagines he would be more frightened. Dean is about to go for another sip when he hears it. 

Footsteps, heavy and headed towards the kitchen. Dean can't pick up a scent and the hairs on his neck raise.

A sharp intake of breath. 

A low rumble. 

Then, 

"O–meg–a."

Blue. That's what Dean can see from the entry way. Hypnotizing, cobalt orbs that make Dean's heart stutter. 

Dean sniffs the air, the scent makes his nose twitch and him sneeze. The heavy smell of the rainforest and crashing oceans has Dean's skin prickling. 

This is the Angel of Thursday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the image: [Devil's Fingers](https://twitter.com/i/web/status/811628551975866368)


	2. Castiel Novak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Omega," Castiel chastises, running his thumb over Dean's lip. "I plan to _ruin you"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my lateness in updating! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
> 
> **Imagery is at the end notes if you would like to see my idea for the house (mansion?).**

Dean carefully sets the coffee mug on the table and the Angel follows the movement with his eyes before they snap back to Dean. 

Blood pumps loudly in Dean's ears and his knees go weak at the overpowering scent the Angel gives off. His Omega makes his mind go dizzy with want and slick dampens his underwear, dripping down his taint to coat his balls uncomfortably.

Dean exhales lowly and flexes his fingers against the pointy edge of the island. A sliver of red bleeds in the corners blurring together with blue and another growl resonates in the room making Dean's spine go rigid. 

Dean clenches his jaw and slowly works himself around the island. He's dealt with Alphas, hell, he's _killed_ Alphas and not once has he let his Omega go dumb over a knot. He's a solider. A Hunter. 

_No. No, I'm not a Hunter anymore, I'm not John's pet anymore._ Dean's hands tremble and his head throbs with a newfound pain. His eyes shut tightly on their own accord then the heavy scent of crashing tides mixing with coffee beans suffocate Dean.

His body is manhandled onto the marble counter and the Alpha stuffs his nose into Dean's neck, nuzzling and mouthing against his scent gland. Dean's hands clench into fists, pathetic, gasping sound escapes his throat, and a pressure begins to build up in his throat and behind his uvula. 

He can't stop this. This is his fucking _job,_ he can't stop it– _he can't._

"'Mega," Alpha rumbles beside his ear, questioning and hesitant, his scent going from smothering to a lazy ripple of water dripping off leaves. 

"Alpha." he whispers obediently, baring his neck. Alpha makes a noise of sadness and backs away from the spread of Dean's legs. 

"You're scared." Alpha grumbles and turns his back to Dean.

Dean lowers his neck, his heart still pounding like gunshots in his chest, and slides off the counter. The movement has slick dirtying the counter and furthering the stickiness of his underwear to his pants and ass. The Angel lets out another low growl and hunches his shoulders over almost like he's trying to make himself seem smaller. 

Dean's Omega claws and howls at their Alpha's distress but Dean stays locked in his place, jaw clenching in a rhythmic motion and heart beating so hard against his chest that it hurts. The sky brightens once more with lightning and for a second, Dean can see the slouched outline of the Alpha and a small gimmer of raven spouting from his back. Dean's eyes lock onto dark feathers and his vision tunnels. There's his next move. 

Dean brings one hand to the dark feathers and his Omega settles at the hitch in Alpha's breath. 

"Alpha," Dean whispers, inwardly cringing at the fact that he has to do this. His assignment. The close proximity allows Dean's nose to pick up on something rank and rotten, it almost makes him pull away. Dean sniffs lowly and saves the smell in a cabinet in his brain for later.

"Who are you?" the words are spoken with a growl that drowns out the sound of rain hitting the windows aggressively. Dean licks his lips nervously, sweat prickles on the nape of his neck and something shifts deep in his stomach. 

"Dean Winchester. Your family hired me as your companion Omega." and even though the Angel can't see him, Dean stands ramrod straight, fingers twitching all while he ignores the slick running down his pant leg. The mere trail of the droplet runs over the edge of Dean's sock and blends into the material and Alpha groans something fierce. He turns back around, wings casting a gush of air to swoop past Dean's face then crowds Dean once again into the sharp edges of the island. 

"That means you are mine. That means I _own_ you." Dean stares into the Angel's darkened orbs and nods slowly. "If I wanted to, I could make you bend over this counter and present yourself to me. I could have you screaming on my tongue for hours. I could," Alpha lets out a shuddery breath. " _destroy_ you." 

"Yes." Dean gasps, slick starting to gather and dampen at his hole again. HIs Omega purrs in victory at the thought of them getting to have Alpha while spew rises in Dean's throat. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to do this right now.

Alpha closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "You stink of fear, Omega. Go. Don't run or else I won't hold back again." he allows Dean space to make it to the hallway. Dean stares dumbly and the cogs in his brain sputter. _What?_

"What?"

He can see the outline of Alpha's head tilt.

"I don't participate in rape nor do I condone it," Alpha stops for a minute before talking again, his voice now sinister and deeper than Dean remembers it being. "Unless that's what you're into." 

Dean chokes on his spit, shakes his head furiously and makes his way to the hallway slowly with his back facing the entrance way. It's dark, even though his eyes have adjusted to the low lights, so he stumbles a little not that he has the time to be embarrassed about it while being looked at like prey. The Angel stays true to his word and stands still while Dean makes his getaway. Dean stops at the archway and his mouth opens and close a few times because he feels as if he has to say something.

"Thank you, Alpha." he settles on instead. A dark grumble sounds and Dean can make out Alpha's tongue jutting out to lick slowly at his lips. "No problem, _Omega."_

Dean takes his final few steps out of sight from Alpha then books it to his room. He slams the door closed with his back pressed firmly against it. 

What the _fuck_ was that?

Dean pushes himself off the door and begins pacing back and forth while he works his clothes off. Dean slides out the raven feather from under his shirt and slaps it down on the vanity before rummaging in the drawers to find something to but it in. It smells of rotten eggs and sewer gas, a scent that reminds him of something distant yet familiar. Dean shoves it in a torn paper bag.

He then peels off the rest of his clothes and stands stark naked in the middle of the room, waiting. 

Dean's eyes flinch at the sudden wetness gathering in his eyes and his eyebrows pinch in annoyance. He can't smell anything. His slick; it smells of _nothing._

 _"You reek of fear, Omega."_ is what Alpha–Dean snaps at his Omega to stop calling _him_ that.–had told him. But Dean doesn't have a scent; he has nothing. Fear, Dean scoffs, it was disgust more than anything. 

Dean stares into the vanity's mirror, his face out of frame but his naked body bared to the other dimension who can see his scars.

_Accomplishments, boy._ John always said. 

Dean rolls his shoulders back and turns to walk to the connected washroom (that's unnecessarily fancy, if Dean's being honest). He finds a couple of scentless towels and puts one over the stool next to the tub then turns the handles to get the faucet (why does it have wings?) running. 

Dean sits at the edge of the tub watching as the water dances and ripples, it's beautiful blue hue reminding Dean of _the_ Alpha. The weird Alpha who let Dean go without chasing, the weird Alpha who smells like–

Dean quickly shuts out his Omega's thoughts and reaches over to turn off the faucet. He reaches over to pick up a fancy looking bottle that reads _ Scented Soap: Lavender _then shrugs and squeezes some of it into water. Dean uses his hand to mix in the soap then carefully sinks into the tub and stares blankly at the rose gold faucet.

The Angel of Thursday is his mission, his job, and nothing more. If this continues, if Dean has...complications, he'll have to take care of AOT another way. 

_"You reek of fear, Omega." "Go. Don't run."_

The conversation plays in his head then rewinds again. Dean brings his hand up to his mating mark where his neck meets shoulder and brushes over the burned skin. 

_You felt it didn't you?_ Dean thinks, squinting his eyes into a glare. _You know I'm government property._

Dean sinks further into the water, his nose just above the surface, and closes his eyes. 

He should see Sam tomorrow about the feather. 

* * *

"Should we leave him?" someone whispers and the snapshot of a camera is heard. Smells of sour candy and muted ink waft into Dean's nose. 

"He looks so peaceful though." another snapshot is heard but this time with flash and Dean's eyes tighten as he groans. 

"You woke up sleeping beauty," a voice, one Dean now recognizes as Gabriel, complains. 

"Any longer and he would've been a wrinkled grape." Charlie bites back. 

Dean blinks his eyes open a couple of times, the rest of his body feels prune-y and the water sloshes over the rim when he jerks.

"Good morning!" Gabriel smiles widely. Dean squints up at the two, fingers twitching underwater. The fluffy, purple soap bubbles have deflated somewhat but still cover Dean's neck and lower; the smell of lavender still potent in the air. Dean exhales, grateful to have a cover for his scent and mark.

"We knocked on your door but you failed to answer so Gabriel decided to barge in." Charlie explains with a sympathetic smile while her hand is in a position that covers Dean's–oh. 

Dean collects soap bubbles to cover his junk and Gabriel pouts while Charlie lets out a sigh of relief, dropping her hand to her side.

"It looks like you met Cassie already." Dean frowns in confusion and Gabriel opens his mouth to speak again but Dean stops him. 

"Can we have this conversation when I'm dressed?" he rasps. 

"I'm fine with the way our conversation is going now." Gabriel grins but his scent still smells of sour candy and hasn't sweetened so Dean knows he's just joking. A better contrast to Anna's scent of arousal.

" _We'll,"_ Charlie glares pointedly at Gabriel. "Wait in the living room. We didn't throw away any of the clothes from your apartment but they did stink of cigarettes so we washed them. They're set on your bed." Charlie nods her goodbye and pushes Gabriel out of the bathroom. 

Dean watches the door close with mild discomfort before he stands and steps out of the tub. After draining the water and brushing his teeth, with an unwrapped toothbrush set on the counter, Dean towels off himself as he walls to the pile of clothes on his bed. They smell of fresh laundry and water and Dean can't help but frown a little once he puts them on. 

He kind of misses the nicotine smell. He stops to think for a second. When was the last time he had a cigarette? Dean sucks his teeth, it's against the rules to smoke them anyway. 

Dean decides to leave the rest of the clothes to fold later and walks down the hall to find the livingroom. He takes a moment to admire the path he walks; the ceiling rises high and carries fancy chandeliers, the wall's color, a white, almost hardened cream, color are complemented with half pillars engraved into the walls; expensive looking artwork hangs on the peacefully on the walls.

Dean stops at the staircase that goes downward but glances up at the one right next to it that seems darkened above. Dean thinks he sees something move in the shadows but decides against it once nothing else happens then continues his way downstairs. 

He finds the living room, eventually, and Charlie, Gabriel, and Lucifer sit on plush green velvet couches while drinking something pink and fizzy. Dean gets a whiff off pomegranate and something else more acidic and heavy. Alcohol. Wine, maybe? 

"Dean-o! We thought you got lost!" Gabriel shouts, clearly intoxicated. Do Angels get intoxicated? Dean figures they can do whatever they want in retrospect. 

"Shoulda given me a map then." Dean comments dryly, sitting down on the couch and _holy_ _shit_ that's soft. 

Charlie puts her glass down, not nearly as drunk as Gabriel but her hands shake and her cheeks are a little flush. "Our chef, Benny, made breakfast earlier, I could bring some for you if you'd like." she stands up to leave but Dean stops her with a hand wrapped loosely around her wrist. 

"Hey, I had some dirty clothes on the floor earlier. Do you know what happened to them?" 

Charlie blinks, her features carefully blank before an added flush appears on her cheeks and Gabriel cackles loudly. 

"Staff is not allowed to mess with your belongings so if your laundry has gone missing then it appears Cas–uh–Cassie has taken them."

She leaves before Dean can fully comprehend what she said. Lucifer and Gabriel smile at him approvingly.

"Our brother says he had a run in with you last night, it looks like he approves of you." Lucifer says, a knowing look in his eyes.

"He really did a number on your neck there." Gabriel waggles his eyebrows. Dean brings his hand up to his neck, his scent gland covered by his collar, and feels for any tender flesh there. His neck tingles and itches at one area and a flush covers his cheeks. 

"As of today, you are officially part of the Novak Pack. Cassie chooses to speak with you later on tonight but until then you are free to do whatever you'd like. There's an indoor pool, Cassie's room–" Dean interrupts Gabriel.

"Can I visit my brother?" 

Lucifer's eyes shine and Gabriel hums. "Anna didn't say it wasn't allowed. As long as one of us accompany you." 

"I'll go. If that's alright." Lucifer looks at Dean, who shrugs and nods. 

"Perfect! I'm going to get more drinks with Charlie and Lucifer should brief you on any other boring talk that you should know." Gabriel lifts up two glasses then scampers off to the kitchen. 

Lucifer stares at Dean. "Are you sure it's okay?" 

"He would want you there." 

Lucifer opens his mouth to protest but is shut down by Dean's glare. Even though Dean hasn't eaten yet, he doesn't have much of an appetite for hunger so he gets his keys from where they hang next to the door and leave into the harsh, winter air. 

"Sonovabitch." Dean huffs, shivering as he starts Baby, who was moved aways away from where Dean parked her orginally. 

Lucifer glances over at him. "Cassie will get...upset if you don't take care of yourself." 

Baby rumbles beautifully and they pullout from under the protective hood. 

"Is his name really Cassie?" Dean can't help but ask. That name isn't really screamable in bed; he could always shorten it to Cas, he guesses. 

Lucifer chuckles. "No but he prefers to tell you his name in person. He's dramatic like that. Sometimes." he adds the sometimes a bit bitterly and his mouth curls downward. 

"Do you know anything about Leviathan Blossom?" Dean asks, keeping his eyes steadily on the road. 

"It was here eons ago and father took care of it but history repeats itself. Cassie was visiting Michael and his mate in New Zealand when he was dosed. He came back different and I felt helpless, again." Lucifer stares at the window darkly. 

"Who was with him in New Zealand?" Dean puts the car in park and looks up at the hospital through his window. 

"Our aunt, technically. She was father's second in command aside from me but I stepped down when I met Sam. She protects all of us, especially Cassie since he will be getting father's power soon." Lucifer explains. 

Dean stares blankly at the big letters on the hospital before he gets out the car, Lucifer following in suit. 

Dean raps his knuckled on the counter and smiles easily at Donna sitting at the front desk. She looks between Dean and Lucifer with wide eyes before she smooths her expression.

"Hey, Donna. Can I see him?" Donna gives him a soft, yet cheeky, smile and nods. 

Dean begins to walk but doesn't here foot steps behind him so he turns and sees Lucifer staring down the lit corridor, seemingly frozen. Dean frowns, walks up to Lucifer and gives his hand a friendly squeeze. 

"He'll want to see you." Dean says. Not because he knows, but because he's never seen Sam so in love before. Lucifer nods once and allows himself to led to Sam's room. 

"Luke. Luke. Luke. L-Luke. Luke. Luke."

The security guard gives them a sympathetic look at the repeated name they all can hear through the door. "Poor guy does that till he falls asleep or needs water then starts back up again." 

"Has he said anything different?" Dean asks. The security guard looks thoughtful. 

"It's documented on his chart. He responds well to smells but I kindly have to ask, uh, Mr. Novak to put on scent blockers." 

Lucifer's scent goes from a wood burning over a crackling fire to nothingness without him moving an inch. Dean chuckles nervously and Dawrin, Dean is just noticing the name tag, looks impressed and also a little fearful. How else would you respond when an Archangel is in your presence? 

"We good?" Darwin nods before opening the door. Lucifer sucks in a sharp breath and Dean tugs him inside. The door shuts behind them.

It breaks Dean's heart every time he has to see it. 

Sam, hair ruffled and eye bags red and dark, sat up with his knees to his chest as he sits there, shaking. His mouth moves over in a repeated motion if Lucifer's shortened name. 

Dean walks over and gently places a hand on Sam's knee. Sam flinches and stops his shaking, looking up at Dean with blank eyes then glances at Lucifer. 

"Hey, Sammy. Brought your fiancé this time around." 

Sam blinks slowly then his shaking and repeating starts up again.

"Pass me his chart." Dean gestures to the clipboard at the end of Sam's bed and Lucifer hands it to him with shaking hands. 

"Sit next to him, tell him stories." Dean mumbles, getting up to flip through the papers. 

**Date in which patient [ SAM WINCHESTER ] showed progress: December 19th, 20XX**

**Patient said: Levi then continued repeating the name Luke.**

Dean mouths out the word and frowns.

"Did you guys know anybody by the name of Levi?" Lucifer shakes his head and plays with the ring decorating Sam's finger. 

"Our wedding was going to be in the spring." he whispers. Dean sets the clipboard down and rests his hand on Lucifer's shoulder. He doesn't want to lie and say that Sam will get better so for now, he allows Lucifer to reminisce and connect with Sam. 

Dean snaps his fingers then quickly pats the inside of his leather jacket and takes out the feather. He waves it around a few times to get it's former smell back then puts it under Sam's nose. 

"You're gonna tickle him back to health?" 

Dean gives Lucifer an unamused look before Sam locks up and his face pales. Tears leak out of his eyes and he mumbles. 

"Luke. Luke. Luke. L-L–" Sam stops, shaking his head and resuming his rocking. 

"This is your brother's feather. It smelled different and I thought that Sam would've gotten something out of it." Dean shrugs, tucking it away. 

"Can't you use your scent to make him remember?" 

"Scent blockers." _I don't have a scent. Not anymore._ Dean sighs.

"I can use my scent–maybe that'll help."

Dean shakes his head. "Other people could smell it, let's just go."

Lucifer kisses Sam's hand lightly and Dean ruffles his brother's hair gently before they both leave the room, angry and dejected. 

Sam's rocking slows and his throat works over time to get the word out.

"B-bl-blossom." 

The ride back home is quiet, Dean has to roll down his window to get the smell of sad Archangel out of his car as they drive. It stinks of burned plastic and makes Dean gag a little. 

"We'll figure it out. Okay?" Dean reassures and Lucifer nods. Dean isn't sure if he's trying to make himself or Luke feel better. Dean shuts off Baby, opening the glove compartment to shove the feather into, before they enter the house. 

Heavy snow makes the sky gloomier than normal and it adds to the sad mood that Dean and Lucifer enter the house with. Charlie goes to greet them with a smile but saddens when she sees them. 

"Dean, seeing as it's dark, Cassie would like to see you in the kitchen. Lucifer, come, let's watch the movie about the guy who killed all those people over his dog." Charlie outstretches her hand to Lucifer, who takes it gratefully, and follows her after a goodbye to Dean. 

Dean's heart beats a little faster and he shrugs off his jacket, toes off his wet boots, and hands his keys before walking carefully to the kitchen. 

He stands at the archway and scans the room. The windows are covered in darkened curtains and the only few lights that shines is the one overhead the stove and the three hanging lights that shines on three equally spaced spots of the island ominously. Dean's eyes flicker from the figure in the corner of meeting cabinets to the heated food resting on the island.

"Our introduction was not the most pleasant." Dean's Omega turns over and presents at the deep roll of their Alpha's voice. Dean scolds his Omega and puts his jacket over one of the chairs. 

"It's fine." Dean shrugs with a smile. 

"No. It's not, I apologize. I wasn't myself. Please, have a seat, I made Shrimp Scampi." 

Dean sits down on the swively stool, inhaling the aroma of heated cheese and pasta. 

"You aren't going to eat with me?" Dean asks, not because he cares, and picks up the fork. The Alpha makes a small humming noise. 

"I think I might end up eating something else." 

Dean's cheeks heat instantly and he tightens his grip on the fork. 

"That's why you took my clothes?" Dean twirls some pasta on his fork. 

"Well, when I had licked up the slick you left on my counter, I was looking for something more permanent. I didn't want to disturb your bath after all." he sounds amused, and smug. 

Dean stares at the island, his appetite suddenly gone yet raging and he crosses his ankles and stuffs his mouth. 

"Your scent was overwhelming to say the least. Nonetheless that shouldn't have been my behavior towards the situation and for that I am truly sorry. I would like the chance to introduce myself properly." 

Ah, so that's why he hasn't sat down yet. Dean swallows and nods his consent. "Go ahead, buddy." 

The odor of rainforest, previously muted, is now back with a passion and Dean squirms in his seat. The Angel picks up his fork and brings to eat, ignoring Dean's squirming. 

"You don't smell of fear anymore." he says after a while. 

"No? What do I smell like?" because Dean doesn't have a fucking smell and this guy needs to shut up about it.

"Sugar coated apples, content but your apples are also sour so you're a little sad. Your fear smells of leather and–"

 _Whiskey._ Dean thinks. 

"Whiskey." the Angel finishes. 

Dean blinks back some tears and pops a shrimp in his mouth. Bullshit.

"You are absolutely beautiful. I'm surprised my family picked one of my father's favorite creations." 

"I'm not a prized pet."

"You're my pet, though, aren't you? If I want you to bark, then you'll _bark."_

Dean stiffens at the sinful tone and the Alpha sighs. 

"I'm sorry. I get like this sometimes, I–" he sounds disappointed and his scent goes from a lush rainforest to one that has just been burned to the ground. 

"It's alright. I was told that you were exposed to some type of drug or somethin'. You don't gotta worry about me feelin' some way about it." Dean reaches over blindly, and rubs the Angel's knee.

"Thank you, Dean." 

"No problem, Cassie." 

The Alpha groans, "They have been calling me that?" 

Dean snorts. "All day. You better tell me your name or else that's what I'm going to start calling you in bed." 

"Castiel Novak." the Alpha, Castiel, mummers softly. 

"Nice to meet you, Cas." 

"Likewise, Dean. Now what was this talk of calling me that awful name in bed?" 

Dean grins, his body relaxing at the playful teasing they have going back and forth. 

"You plan to punish me if I do?" Dean says, half teasing, half curious. 

"Omega." Castiel chastises, reaching over and running his thumb over Dean's bottom lip. "I plan to _ruin you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kitchen Imagery(only the first slide)](https://www.houzz.com/photos/modern-victorian-gem-victorian-kitchen-phvw-vp~123747249)
> 
> [Living Room Imagery](https://pin.it/5oGvnVq)
> 
> [Dean's Room](https://pin.it/Ok1cJRb)
> 
> [Dean's Washroom](https://pin.it/75jVl1C)


	3. Destroying Government Property

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns a little bit more about Leviathan Blossom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have no update schedule. I just write when I feel like it and sometimes I try to put it out as soon as I can. I apologize if that means long waits in between updates. This chapter isn't the best but the next one will be way better!
> 
> Corpus diaboli: the body of the devil
> 
> Imagery at the end.

It smells like freshly inked books drowned deep inside the ocean. Dean can almost feel the salt water entering his lungs as he steps further into the study. 

Light rays shine through dusty curtains allowing Dean to see little particles floating in the air; the sandy carpet in the middle of the room that looks scrunched and moved; a couch with sunken in cushions, a painting; few books scatter the floor and go underneath a desk; said desk which has been haphazardly pushed from what Dean suspects as he glances down at the scrape marks on the floor.

Dean brushes his hand over the globe, turning it and letting it spin as he walks past it to fully take in the towering bookshelves 

Each shelf is filled to the brim with books old, new, and ancient. 

Dean wouldn't have even known this was here if Castiel hadn't told him during their dinner two nights ago. The night had been satisfactory; Castiel's Shrimp Scampi was delicious and the company hadn't been completely terrible.

Dean learned that Castiel's personality changes; it's often spontaneous and leads to derogatory, sinful conversations that Dean would much rather not think about right now. Other than that Dean didn't get enough information other than the fact that the guy just might be Bipolar and that his scent changes.

Dean brings a finger to run down the spine of a random book, rubbing it together with his thumb when dust coats the pad of his index finger. 

"Castiel used to love reading with the curtains open until recently." Anna comments, startling Dean only a little as his body twitches and tenses.

Anna stands in prim and proper clothes with her wings, a pair darker then her hair, tucked neatly behind her. Dean's brows frown. How come he didn't notice them before? 

"What happened recently?" Dean questions, leaning against the solid, wood desk with his ankles crossed.

Anna surveys the room quietly, something akin to nostalgia swims in her eyes, and steps closer to Dean. 

"A drug. I wasn't there myself but I heard from our aunt that Castiel was hit and now suffers from a...personality defect. We are unclear as to what other problems he might have acquired, he might not be able to provide kids for you." Anna explains, sliding a hand up Dean's arm. She stinks of arousal.

Dean's mind goes hazy with nausea and he clears his throat. "I thought he needed a heir." 

Anna sighs. "Daddy likes to bend the rules for Castiel so that might not be a problem but, if you would like a _real_ Alpha to give you what you need then don't hesitate to seek me out. Okay?" 

Dean gives Anna a lopsided grin and bounces his head. "Sure." 

Watching her leave, Dean relaxes against the desk, something about her makes Dean's skin crawl. 

Deciding to put in behind him, Dean shuffles around the study a bit more. A dark red book with thin gold lining catches his attention; similar to all the other ones scattered and there's nothing extra extraordinary about it except that fact that it isn't caked with dust and has been moved recently.

Dean tilts his head to read the spine. 

_Corpus diaboli_

Dean crooks his finger on the top of the book and tilts it to slide it out. He sits back on the couch underneath the painting of Koi fish, sneezing at the dust that jumps up, and watches the pages ripple under his thumb until he settles on the first proper page. 

_The Leviathans were among God's first creations as ancient, primordial monsters. Their name refers to any sea creature but go as a wide variety of names such as: Big Mouths, Chompers, The Old Ones, or Levis for short. Leviathans are also described as the demon of envy which would be one of the Seven Princes of Hell._

_They prey on the souls of Angels and humans thus proving too predatory, hungry, and destructive which led to God locking them in Purgatory._

_Purgatory is the destinations of souls of monsters and a cage for the Leviathans which is adjacent to Hell, according to the King of Hell, Crowley. Purgatory is a fairly empty place with the exception of basic tools such as rocks, wood, and water. There is only one ruler which is Eve–Mother of All. She is the originator and leader off all monsters but has more appreciation for Leviathans._

_Eve is part of existence before Angels, putting her at a great advantage since she is able to inhibit them from using their–_

"Light reading?"

Dean jerks, hitting his head on the wall behind him and dropping the book from his hands. He isn't sure if it's the oncoming concussion or if he spent too much time reading but the room has darkened considerably; the windows seem to be covered by shadows.

Dean rubs the back of his head, wincing. "You guys need a fuckin' bell." 

Castiel crouches down and raises his hand to gently graze the back of Dean's head with his fingertips.

"Are you okay, Omega?" 

"I have a name you know." Dean sighs, pushing his head back against Castiel's hand. 

"We prefer to call you Omega. I never meant any disrespect–" 

"It's cool, dude."

Castiel gently smooths his fingers in Dean's hair.

"What were you reading?"

"Nothin'" Dean head throbs as he attempts to bend down and pick up the fallen book 

"I've read that book a million times to try and figure out how I could cure myself. I think that maybe it is my fate to die." Castiel picks up the book and rises, sliding it back in its place.

Dean's Omega howls at the thought of their Alpha dying but Dean swats it with a newspaper and focuses back to their conversation. 

"I thought we were, ya know, doin' the do to give you a heir and stuff." Dean blushes, licking his lips nervously. 

"You mean intercourse?" 

_"Jesus–"_

A hand covers Dean's mouth and his back curves on the armchair of the loveseat with Castiel kneeled between his legs. Dean's eyes roll up to look at the flared wings crowding over him. He can almost see the strings of odor coming from them; black and thick. His nose flares. Sulpher.

"We do not blasphemy in this house, Omega." Castiel's hand slides down and he pulls Dean's bottom lip down then says in a slow drawl. "If you do it again I won't hesitate to gag you with something other than a cloth." 

Dean exhales, eyes flickering back and forth at the red rimmed ones staring at him. He's going to get whiplash with how fast Castiel's personality changes; his scent goes from a rainforest to something dark, rotten and lonely.

He smells like Sam.

"The things I'll do to you. The screams you'll make, the blood you'll shed." the red around Castiel's eyes swim in with the blue. Dean swallows thickly, the sound clicking in his ears as his fingers twitch against the cushions. 

Castiel freezes above him for a split second then throws himself back from the couch, bumping against a bookshelf and rattling it so hard that books fall down around him. 

"I apologize, Dean. I do not know how to control–"

"Kiss me." Dean suggests. Because of the concussion, obviously.

"Excuse me?" 

"To settle your Alpha. It's my job to make sure you're satisfied and shit so, kiss me." 

"Your job." Castiel echos.

Dean nods despite every instinct telling him to stop feeding the Alpha lies. This isn't Dean's job, not really. He is supposed to provide a heir like some medieval times crap and be there during his ruts. Dean's not supposed to want kiss him.

At Castiel's stillness, Dean gets up slowly from the couch and steps over the books to get to Castiel who smells of fresh fruit; shyness.

"I have never kissed anyone, supernatural or organic life combined." Castiel confesses lowly. Dean wishes the lights were on so he could see the heat that he feels coming from the Angel's cheeks. 

"Guess I'll show you the ropes then."

"There are no ropes–" 

"Shut up, Cas." Dean chuckles then steps a little closer and cups Castiel's cheeks in his hands and presses a gentle, yet firm kiss on his lips.

Castiel's lips are chapped and dry and scabby and shit–why is it better then most kisses Dean has ever had? 

"Tilt your head a little." Dean whispers, pulling back for only a minute then kissing Castiel with more force, sucking gently on his bottom lip. He takes his time allowing Castiel to get used to the feel of their teeth knocking together clumsily and the saliva coating their lips. 

Castiel's hands explore underneath Dean's shirt curiously making a shiver run down Dean's spine and slick start to dampen his underwear. 

The smell of ripened fruit has Dean pulling away with a furious blush on his cheeks. 

"There, I took your kiss virginity." 

"I would like to do it again if that is okay." 

Dean grins at Castiel's formality and brings their lips together again. It's softer this time, more controlled and makes Dean leak a little more.

"I think you should go." Castiel's hands slip from Dean's shirt and he moves behind the desk. Dean blinks a few times and turns to stare at Castiel, balking.

"I enjoyed you taking my "kiss virginity" but I fear that if we continue that I will do something very unholy." Castiel says with sincerity, he even uses quotation marks when repeating Dean's words. It's kind of adorable.

Slick slides down the inside of Dean's thigh and he can see Castiel's nostrils flare. Dean finally gets his brain to communicate with his body again and he backs up to the study's entrance. 

The familiar smell of rotten eggs and loneliness invade Dean's nose again. 

"Cas?" 

"I want to push you against this desk and make you faint from–you should go, Omega." 

Dean closes the door to the study and watches through one of the squared glasses as Castiel's wings flap in agitation and he kicks the desk angrily before tugging on his hair. 

Dean stumbles as he backs away then turns and quickly makes it to his room. He shuts and locks the door instinctively then stands in the middle of the room trying to calm his shaking body. 

He smells like Sam. Castiel smells like _Sam_. 

_Patient said: Levi._

_Their name refers to any sea creature but go as a wide variety of names such as: Big Mouths, Chompers, The Old Ones, or Levis for short._

Dean's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat. Tears burn his eyes but he blinks them back and rummages inside the vanity's dresser. He dropa down and sits back against the futon at the end of the bed and sniffles as he punches in the message angrily. 

_> > I need to see him. _

_< < Any new information? _

_> > Let me see him or u aint getting shit._

_< < ..._

_< < Tomorrow. Playground 5PM. _

Dean clutches the phone in his hand and taps the top of it against his forehead a few times. 

How the fuck didn't he pick the scent up before? It was right there under his nose which means Sam did Leviathan Blossom and Lucifer knew about it. 

* * *

Dean knocks his knuckles against Charlie's raised legs then rubs Baby's dashboard affectionately. 

It was easy to get everyone to agree on Dean leaving the house with Charlie. Not only does she rarely leave but Gabriel and Lucifer was all too happy to find her secret alcohol stash while she was gone. He asked for Charlie because he knew she would be discreet about anything that happened, Dean doesn't need the Novaks to know that he used go be a Hunter. That would most likely end with his body on Billie's door again.

"I'm gonna break your legs next time you put your legs on her." Dean threatens, only half-joking. Charlie pouts but keeps her legs in their proper place. 

"Where are we going anyway?" 

Dean ignores her and parks the car across from the snow-covered playground. He leans on Baby's wheel to see two figures loitering around the playground then sighs. 

"You stay here. Capiche?" 

"But–yeah, I capiche." Charlie pouts. Dean shrugs off his jacket, it smells of Angels and snow, and throws it on Charlie's lap then gets out of the car and starts walking towards the playground. 

Each step of snow underneath his boots has the pit in his stomach widening, each snowflake that lands on nose or cheek or lips makes him more aware of what he's putting at risk.

There's a dismal amount of people around; the crazed jogger who runs in the snow, dog walkers who've given up on keeping their dogs from playing in the snow, and a mom trying to calm her baby.

Dean rolls his shoulders and steps up the figures.

"Winchester." Jo greets, a grin on her otherwise stoic face. She still smells like the Roadhouse, something between beer and limes. Dean ruffles her hair. 

"How you been, Dean?" Ellen asks, eyes soft and worried but scent dulled so Dean can't scent her openly. He shrugs and averts his eyes.

"Where's John?"

"You lost respect for your elders, boy?" John drawls, stepping in between Jo and Ellen with his hands in his jacket pockets. Dean's bottom lip wobbles and fear prickles in the back of his brain. Dean holds his hands behind his back and stands up straighter. 

"No, sir." 

"Where you been, boy?" 

"Henrikson gave me the files for the Novak case." 

"You whorin' around the Novaks now? I trained you better than to be some Omega bitch didn't I?" 

Dean shifts backwards and looks down and John grips the back of his neck. Jo and Ellen look away.

"I asked you a question, boy!" 

"Yes, sir." 

The smack is loud and Dean's neck cracks at how sharp his head turns. The snow landing on his cheek makes it sting and throb more. 

"What do you want, Omega?" John spits the words at Dean like it's poison.

"I wanted to ask about Sam, sir."

"Why couldn't I get me a pair of Alphas." John sighs, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. 

"Was he working the Leviathan case, sir?" 

"We sent him to tail this hot shot that we suspect is a Leviathan a couple'a months ago. Sam knew what he was getting into when he said yes." bile rises in Dean's throat.

"Sam shouldn't be around drugs." 

"Sam obeys orders unlike his brother!" John barks then he leans closer to Dean and sniffs.

"You get close to a Novak and let him scent mark you already? Let me see the gland, boy." 

Dean pulls back his collar to show the burned skin.

"What does it mean?" 

"I'm government property, sir. You own me." Dean pulls the line from somewhere deep and dark inside of his brain. It makes his heart numb and his fingers twitch with the need to assemble a gun or to attack a target. 

"Get out of my sight and don't come back until you get me worthy information, boy." 

Dean's eyes flinch at the gathering tears and he nods jerkily, turning around and storming back to Baby. Charlie stares at him bewildered and reaches out to touch his shoulder but Dean flinches back against the door.

"Dean–" 

"I'm f-fine." Dean clears his throat and starts Baby so they can drive back home. 

He's _fine_. 

Charlie doesn't say anything to him when he gets out of the car. She looks at him with sad eyes and understanding and it makes Dean feel sick to his stomach. 

He spent years trying to forget why people looked at him like that whenever they saw him and now he can't ever unsee it. An abusive father, everyone would say, even Sam. But Dean is broken, always has been, and saw it as normality, as love. 

He doesn't now. At least not to the same extent. 

Dean storms into the house, body flying on autopilot as he looks for Lucifer. 

Sam was clean, had been for six years with Lucifer and Dean by his side, then Dean left because he's weak and couldn't handle a couple of hits from his father and he _left_ Sam with Lucifer. 

Lucifer who had the same drug problem.

Dean grabs Lucifer by the collar of his shirt and slams him against the hallway's walls when they pass each other. 

"You let him take Leviathan!" Dean accuses. He knew Lucifer let Sam off on a hunt but he didn't think–not this. 

Lucifer tenses, eyes shining with grace as he prepares for a fight but falters. 

"You know nobody can change Sam's mind."

"You're a goddamn Archangel, you could've–" 

"He would've hated me. He prayed to me months ago telling me about the hunt he was going on but Naomi wouldn't allow it. She feared I would relapse again." 

Dean's grip loosens and tears slide down his face. 

"He's going to die." 

"Guess both our mates are." Lucifer wraps Dean in a hug and Dean grips Lucifer's sleeves tightly. "We'll figure it out, Dean." 

Dean chokes on his sobs. 

He doesn't think they will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Study Imagery](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/q4OED)


	4. Happy Birthday, Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternate chapter name: dean is an asshole/one track mind.
> 
> Warning: Implied/mentioned past prostitution. Also a controversial issue is mentioned mildly. Forced feminization as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizes for the wait once again, I will get better!
> 
> Plot but it ended up being sad and that turned into porn.
> 
> the age difference between Sam and Dean is eight years instead of four because I didnt calculate the math properly when I posted the last chapter so everything would align. I hope that's okay!

Death isn't a concept that Dean is unfamiliar with.

It isn't even a concept to begin with. Death is cosmic entity; a being without a beginning or an end who wears red lipstick and who Dean could almost consider a friend. 

So no, it's not the entity that Dean is worried about, it's the repercussions.

Dean has taken the life of over seventy Alphas ranging from farmers to governors because it was orders and Dean knows how to obey. But there's karma, karma that follows after taking the life of a farmer with two kids and a wife who has a third one on the way or a mayor who cheated on his significant other with the secretary or a young girl who gets cash by selling government secrets–Dean blinks the tears burning his eyes and allows nicotine to fill and rest in his lungs. 

Sam dying is his karma, his _fault._

Sam who turned to drugs at the age of sixteen because teenage boys shouldn't be trained by the government to be combat readymade.

Sam who was fragile, delicate and Omega-like and _innocent_. Now, the kid is only twenty two and in some padded cell and if Dean can't figure out who's making the drug or some heaven sent fucking cure, how the hell is he supposed to live with himself? 

Dean could've been a better brother if he's honest. How weak was he not to handle a couple of hits from the old man? So what? It's called discipline, his body has deemed it normal no matter if his mind says otherwise. If he just dealt with it until Sammy was of legal age to leave then why didn't he?

The door to the shed creaks open and Dean curses, dropping his cigarette, the last one he had found buried in his laundry, onto the frosted floor and waving away the smoke that escapes from his mouth during his coughing fit. His shoulders hunch and he wraps the thin blanket around himself from the cold breeze and tiny bit of snow that flows in.

The shed is a small, wood thing he found connected to the back on the house during his late night explorations. It's empty, the dark wood has snow grasping over the edges of it from the outside and Dean has gotten two splinters from opening the door but it's warm somehow and smells like fresh winter air. 

A burly man walks in with his hands raised defensively, a green pack of cigarettes in one hand. 

"I ain't here to snitch on you, brotha. I come here to smoke all the time." he says, waving the box in Dean's direction. 

Dean waves him off, nudging the lit bud with the heel of his foot to stomp it out.

"I'm Benny, the chef." also the vampire from what Dean can smell but he guesses people don't take kindly to that sort of introduction. Benny smells interesting like cajun seasoning but there's something dark there. 

"Dean, Castiel's Omega." 

Dean's inner enemy purrs loudly at the sound of that; _Castiel's Omega,_ it has a nice ring to it. 

Benny lights his cigarette and hesitates when bringing it up to his lips. "We don't get a lot of scentless Omegas askin' about Purgatory 'round here." 

Dean tenses, fingers tightening around the blanket and Benny eyes him up and down. 

"Lucifer asked if I could help, he didn't say why you need the information but I guess it has somethin' to do with that Alpha a'yours." Benny speculates then brings the bud to his lips and inhales. 

"Doesn't sound like you want to help." Dean points out Benny's sour tone. Benny holds the bud between his lips then knocks the box against his palm for another one and hands it to Dean. 

Dean leans the end of it to Benny's lighter and watches him curiously.

"Miss Naomi don't take kindly to people askin' questions. I'm warnin' you." 

"I can hold my own just fine, thank you." Dean bites, taking a drag.

Benny grunts. "Rifts can be opened to get to Purgatory, if the rift closes when someone tries to leave then there's another one near a river that only humans can pass through." 

Dean chews the gum on the inside of his cheek. So the person making the drug has access to an open rift which makes Dean wonder how the rifts open. Sam would know about that, he was the one who read lore books. 

He taps the excess off his cigarette and analyzes Benny. There's something off about him; his scent spiked in bitterness when he talked about Purgatory and twisted in fear when he mentioned Naomi. 

"Who is Naomi exactly?" 

Benny slowly brings the cigarette to his lips and huffs out a low chuckle.

"She might as well be the Devil himself." 

"What'd she do?" 

"I best be leavin' now, brotha'." Benny flicks his cigarette on the ground and steps on it as he rises. 

"Wait, Benny–" 

"When Miss Naomi comes back, it would be wise for you to stop askin' about Leviathan Blossom." Benny levels him with a look. "Take care of that Alpha and yourself." he tips his head then walks out of the shed. 

The door swings closed on its hinges and with each flick of the door Dean can see heavy snow falling sideways and Benny's retreating back. 

Dean sucks his teeth and flicks the stick onto the ground then toes at the burning end. He wraps the blanket around himself tighter and steps out into the harsh, cold air. His nose and ears burn instantaneously and he can already feel his balls shriveling. Dean shivers with each step back into the house and suddenly misses the warmth that the nicotine gave him.

This Naomi character is interesting; she has Benny on edge, Lucifer doesn't like her and she seems to be connected to Leviathan Blossom. She's the protector of these Angels right? Which would mean that she's powerful enough to open a rift. 

Dean chews the gum off the inner walls of his cheek. Even if she was involved, why would she be? She's God's second in command, she must be powerful. Maybe an Archangel like Lucifer.

Dean shoulders off the blanket so it lands on his bed then opens the drawer to the vanity. 

The black folder lies there as if it isn't holding important information that could make or break millions of people's lives. That's this person's endgame, right? To ruin all organic life. 

Dean clenches his jaw. Something about that doesn't seem right. 

If this person has enough power to open a rift then why would they attack two people like that? It's clear that Sam got to something and was attacked before Castiel was but why would anyone harm Castiel? Nobody knows _him,_ they know The Angel of Thursday so they could've easily attacked a pedestrian.

This is personal then. 

Dean squints at the folder and taps his nail against the vanity four times.

That person who was following him was wearing scent-blockers and their movements were clumsy, noticeable. Someone knows that Dean is looking into this. There was a corporate name that had been voided in the file and Sam was sent to spy on someone in the big leagues. Maybe Naomi runs with them too. 

Dean's eyes flicker up to the mirror for a second then back at the folder before he does a double take. 

A yellow sticky note flaps on the mirror as the wind flows and disturbs it. 

_Omega, if it is okay with you I would enjoy if you would meet me in the kitchen later on tonight. It is fine if you say no, there is no pressure! I want to be in your company for this special occasion.- Castiel_

Dean's cheeks warm and he scoffs at the neatly written note. His fingers trace the edge of it lightly and he takes one more glance at the black folder before closing the vanity drawer. He glances out the window to guess around what time it could be.

The sky has just started to turn that beautiful array of warm colors, adding more personality to the clean snow falling on the ground. If he stares long enough he can see baby Sammy running around and and falling face first into the snow. He can see his mom laughing at the both of them building shitty, lopsided snowmen. 

He's failed both of them, hasn't he? 

Still stinking of cigarettes and haunted by a childhood memories, Dean strips off his clothes as he walks to the washroom for a quick shower. 

With the water running down his back, Dean hesitates when he begins to wash his body. His own flesh that he feels trapped, suffocated, in. How many times has he spread his legs for a little extra cash? And how many times did he do it for fun because his body is broken and sex is something that hasn't been fun in a while? 

He got paid more for keeping his knees open then from serving his country. Funny how that works. 

Disgust hugs him from behind as he reaches down and washes between his legs. Or maybe it's unfamiliarity; this body hasn't been his in years and now that it is it's _gross._

Dean scrubs down quickly and by the time he gets out of the shower the sky has turned a peaceful midnight black; something that reminds him too much of what his life looks like now. His clothes, to his amusement, are still left on the floor so he kicks them in the direction of the hamper and finds some clothes to wear.

 _Special occasion?_ Dean wonders as he pads to the kitchen. It's a sense of déjà vu that Dean gets when he enters the kitchen; the three island lights are still turned on as well as the overhead stove light while Castiel stands in the corner of two meeting counters in a suit of some sort, Dean can tell from the outlines of his clothing, with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Something about Alpha's aura seems nervous, almost scared.

It doesn't take long for the scent of rain to wash over Dean nor does it take long for the smell of apples, cinnamon, and brown sugar to make his stomach grumble. 

His eyes lock onto a pie that sits inconspicuously on the middle of the island with the cursive letters 'Happy Birthday' on them. His eyebrows raise comically high.

"I didn't know Angels had birthdays." Dean chuckles awkwardly. Should he had brought a gift? He feels like he should have. 

Castiel shifts in his corner and says in a low, timid voice. "This is for you, Omega." 

Dean blinks.

"Is it not on the twenty-forth? I apologize, that's what I read from your file and Anna said–there is no explanation for this, I am so–" 

"Thank you," Dean whispers thickly. His eyes are watery and there's a forming lump in his throat that he can't swallow down. How long has he been rolling through the months? Would he even know it was his birthday if he wasn't here? 

"Did I do something wrong? I am unaware of the customs that apply to birthdays." Dean can hear the frown on Castiel's face. He lets out a watery chuckle.

"I think the last time I celebrated my birthday was when I was fourteen." he admits, staring at the golden crust. "Birthdays aren't important to me and I've never–only with my mom but she never made it to my fifteenth."

She got too sick and Dean was sent off to Bobby's. Sam was with John during that time if Dean remembers correctly; back then Omegas were only allowed custody of the eldest child while the other one went with the Alpha.

Castiel steps forward and slides his hand under Dean's shirt carefully. Dean's skin tingles and becomes warm at the touch. 

"This can be important." Castiel's cheeks rise in a small smile and the two stare at each other. 

Castiel smells nice, it's a scent burned into his nostrils like how assembling a gun is muscle memory. He can't forget it; a rainforest that Dean hasn't stained with blood of others; one with exotic fruits and animals; one that doesn't suffer from deforestation and is lush and lively. Like home, something that Dean has always thought of as disgusting and repulsive.

"We ate berries," Dean whispers. "On the front porch even though it was snowing because we both like the cold. She would talk to me, random things about us or how I would grow up. How I would give her grandkids and she could see me in love with someone." 

Castiel turns to rummage through the cabinets. He gets a rather large bowl and drops two forks into it then puts it in Dean's hands before gathering fruit containers from the fridge.

"Follow." Castiel commands, taking the pie in his other hand and walking in the opposite direction that Dean came in.

Dean stumbles in his steps as he follows. His Omega is purring and presenting its belly at their Alpha's kindness. This time, Dean allows a low purr to vibrate his throat. 

The bedroom they walk into his dark but there's a large window with snow piling up on the outside of it. Castiel turns on a lamp on a stack of books then opens the window a crack. 

"I understand it is not the same but I am not permitted to go outside. This is my room, my safe space so I thought it would mean more for intimacy reasons." Castiel's voice rises a little in nervousness and Dean's bottom lip wobbles. 

"It's good, Cas." 

Castiel sits down carefully with his back against his bed as to not drop their stuff then pulls Dean down gently who sets down the bowl and takes out the forks.

"You don't have to do this." Dean mumbles as Castiel dumps the berries into the bowl. They seem to be washed already from the water droplets resting on them.

"I want to." Castiel assures. Dean pops open the container of whipping cream and uses the fork to plop it onto the combination. They clink their forks together and start eating. 

Dean's cheeks are full of blackberries and strawberries as he regards Castiel.

"Can you even taste anything?" he asks after swallowing. Castiel hums quietly. 

"Molecules mostly, but this is making you happy and I like you–seeing you happy I mean." Castiel turns his head then leans over and wipes the cream from the side of Dean's lip. Castiel eases Dean's mouth open with his thumb and runs the cream on his tongue. 

"Would you like to dance?" he asks, removing his thumb. Dean gathers what little bearings he has left and clears his throat. 

"What?" 

"Dance. I watched a lot of movies where people would often dance during their birthdays." Castiel sounds proud in his answer and the scent of happy Alpha wraps around Dean. 

"Is that why you have the suit on?" 

"I wanted to impress you." Castiel rises and drops his shoulders, turning away from Dean. Dean chews on his bottom lip then looks around the room for the object he had noticed earlier. He gets up, stumbles a little because of the numbness in his legs, and carefully walks over to the record player; a thankfully modern, wood one with stands. 

There's already a vinyl inside of it so Dean feels for the needle and sets it carefully on top and struggles a big before making it play. 

"Didn't take you for an Angel who likes sex Jazz." Dean teases when soft saxophone begins to emit from the speakers. He's more a rock kind of guy but he can get behind this. Only because Castiel did so much for him today. 

Castiel goes to argue but Dean waves his hand dismissively and nudges Castiel's leg with the ball of his foot.

"Dance with me." 

When Castiel gets up, both him and Dean stand in front of the window; Castiel has both of his arms wrapped loosely around Dean's waist while Dean has his arms in the same state around Castiel's neck. 

It's an easy sway that they have going; their feet stumble a little and they both laugh at any mistake they make. The side of Dean's body is cold from the snow flurries flying inside the room but Castiel's body is emitting a warm that makes Dean feel like he's wrapped in a thick blanket. The music is tacky and Dean doesn't really like it but Castiel eyes are shining so that makes up for it.

"Could you see it?" Castiel mummers while tightening his arms and pulling Dean flush against him. 

"See what?"

"Us. You falling in love with me, us falling in love with each other." 

Their swaying has slowed down to a stop and Dean tenses, his arms tighten around Castiel's neck and his heart beats a little harder. 

"That was a stupid question. I am your job after all, right?" a pin pokes Dean's heart at Castiel's words. The truth is, he isn't sure. Love isn't something he deemed necessary or important or _available._ He's not anything like an Omega and he isn't even sure if he can bare kids for his Alpha–for his _job._ That's all Castiel can ever be; his occupation, his only way to save Sam. 

"I like you!" he lies then winces at how loud he says it. If he loses Castiel then he loses Sam. 

Castiel's scent goes from thick with worry to light with relief and joy. Dean feels like shit. 

"I was just surprised at the question. I haven't loved anyone like that before so I can only say that I like you." and now Dean gets it. He gets what it's like to want to swallow your own tongue and drink needles until blood is his new fruit punch. 

"You smelt uncomfortable so I was worried that you would say no because maybe you did not view me that way."

Dean wants to yell. He doesn't know how he feels, every Alpha he's come into contact with he's killed and now– _fuck._ Dean doesn't have a scent and this Alpha knows nothing _._ Dean leans forward, almost knocking his forehead against Castiel's in his haste to press their lips together. 

Castile's movements are still awkward and scream inexperienced but his hands are moving underneath Dean's shirt and his tongue is soft. They stumble to the bed, knocking over the bowl of fruits, and Castiel lifts Dean's shirt over his head. 

"Take off your pants." Castiel leans back on his calfs to loosen his tie and Dean's nose twitches. There's that smell again. 

"I don't want slick to get–" 

Castiel looks down at Dean, red bleeding into blue, and tilts his head. 

"Obey, _pet."_

Dean's breath catches in his throat. He lifts his hips and shimmies out of his sweatpants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs and Castiel pulls them off the rest of the way.

Castiel sinks down to his knees and raises Dean's legs to get a view of the clenched hole. Castiel thumbs over it, a thin line of slick connecting his finger to the muscle. Dean grunts and turns his burning face in the sheets, his eyes flutter closed at the smell of fruits.

"Beautiful." Castiel whispers. "I've never seen a pussy like this one before."

Dean nearly kicks Castiel away from him. "Don't be gross." he complains. It's not the first time someone has called his ass that but it's certainly the first time his cock has twitched over it. 

"I bet it would look cute wrapped up in some lace. Maybe pink would look good on you." Castiel prods the tip of his finger and watches as it sinks in.

"Fuckin'– _shut up."_

"You were being so obedient earlier, pet. What happened?" Castiel wiggles and crooks his fingers making Dean's eyes bunch closed and his cock twitch against his belly. 

"Stop callin' me that." _relax, Winchester. It's just a bit of teasing. You're fine._ Dean whines when another finger joins beside the other. It's been a while since he's done this, especially considering since he only does it when his heat comes. 

"Maybe I should call you puppy since you want to misbehave." Castiel spreads his fingers and watches as slick dribbles from the opening and soaks into the sheets. 

"T-that's worse!" Dean bites and gasps when three fingers begin working their way inside of him. He looks down to see Castiel laser focused on the task in front of him. Is this the same guy who didn't know how to kiss? 

"C'mon, Puppy." Castiel looks up, one eye completely taken over by red. " _Bark."_

Dean's back arches and his toes curl when the fingers press up onto his prostate. "Alpha!"

"There he is, my pretty Omega. Your pussy is squeezing my fingers so tight I don't think I can pull them out." Castiel mummers, pressing harder. 

"D-don't," Dean gasps. "Call it that– _shit!"_

"But I own you, don't I? I can call this whatever I want because I own _it."_ Castiel growls lowly and shoves his fingers deeper, massaging Dean's prostate. "What is it, puppy?" 

Dean's cold. He's cold and he knows that's not what Castiel is asking but he needs, fuck, what does he need? He's so far gone he can't hear the music anymore.

Castiel drapes his body over Dean's while still moving his fingers and uses his free hand to shove two digits into Dean's mouth. Dean fights all instinct to bite and instead sucks on them. The position allows Dean friction to grind his cock against the sleeve of Castiel's suit.

"Are you gonna listen now, honey?" Castiel asks sweetly like Dean doesn't have droll seeping over the sides of his mouth or tears rolling down to his temples. Dean eyes flutter at the easy roll of fingers over his prostate and he nods lazily. Castiel coos and pulls his fingers from Dean's mouth. 

"What is this called?" Castiel ranks another moan out of Dean when he grazes his prostate. 

"I-it's–" Dean kicks out his feet at Castiel's prodding. "M-my–" 

"Yours?" 

"I-it's your p-pussy, Alpha." Dean's Omega howls happily. A part of them is Alpha's now. Dean thinks, through the thick haze in his mind, that maybe it might be more than one part. 

Castiel presses multiple kisses on Dean's sweaty face and crooks his fingers once more before Dean spills on Castiel's suit and his stomach with his hips arched and abs tensed.

"So good, sweetheart." Castiel praises, sliding his fingers out and gathering Dean in his arms. Dean clenches around nothing and pants against Castiel's chest. 

"Alpha, A-Alpha," Dean buries his nose in Castiel's scent gland and inhales to calm his shaking body. Everything around him is muddled together and his body is warm. Castiel is warm. 

When Dean's brain is cleared, he's under a thick comforter with his throat not as parched as it had been earlier; his hole is sore as well as his hips. 

"We didn't get to eat the pie." Dean rasps while he watches Castiel put the fruit bowl on the nightstand. 

"It was still a successful birthday, yes?" Castiel's voice is light now, it still has that gravelly tone but it's soft around the edges. Dean feels heat rise to his cheeks.

"Yeah. Thanks, Cas." 

Castiel kneels on the bed and brushes Dean's cheek with his thumb. 

"Happy birthday, puppy." 

Castiel backs up and continues to clean up the mess while Dean watches him from behind.

Why does Castiel smell so sad? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Castiel's Bedroom](https://pin.it/3c97D2a)


	5. Molotov Cocktail Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sugar. Honey. Iced. Tea.
> 
> Not Beta'd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got really dejected when writing this so it was really difficult to continue. I have the ending and plans and angst and feels but it's hard to write. Thank y'all for giving me time :)
> 
> The verbal feminization isnt exactly doing it for me so from now on it won't be as prominent.
> 
> This entire fic is gonna hurt.

Dean hates the sound of grinding snow; he hates when people crush the flakes underneath their heavy boots and shake their leg like ants crawled up their pants. He hates it because he can feel the noise in his teeth and the bite in the back of his mouth.

He must be a hypocrite then because right now he's grinding his toes aimlessly into crisp white snow while wearing one of Sam's sweaters, heavy sweatpants, and snow boots. It wasn't his plan; he meant to head back inside, to crawl into bed and wait for the sun to rise but the snow looked so inviting and for a second he could smell his mother out there.

Dean vaguely wonders if Sam can remember his mother's smell; if he can remember Dean's from when they were kids and had the burden of innocence strapped to their chests and the false presence of happiness under their noses.

He shouldn't have left. If he stayed then Sam would still be–he _shouldn't have left._ It was a pathetic excuse to leave; the punches and cigarette burns didn't give Dean some pass to abandon his brother. He has the mark, the burned skin as a reminder for when he tried to leave the first time. Dean should've known leaving a second time would've been worse. 

Dean's heavy exhale is accompanied with an overexaggerated shiver and he wraps his arms around himself before slowly trucking inside; his lips, nose, and ears a little numb from the cold but his body has already begun to warm up when he steps through the cocked back kitchen door.

"You look like there's something on your mind, Omega." Anna calls when Dean pauses at to take off his boots and close the door. Dean tenses, the nickname rolling off her tongue makes his mouth curl into a sneer. 

He steps into the lit room, small bits of snow trailing behind him, and leans against one of the kitchen counters. Anna is leaned over the kitchen island, a bottle of wine next to a red-stained glass, her lip stick is smudged on the rim.

"Is it Castiel?" her scent of distaste spits on her feigned concern and Dean grits his teeth. 

"Nope. We're as right as rain." he lies and Anna walks towards him with a predatory grin.

"You don't have to lie, Omega. If he's not giving you the attention you want, you can always come to me." she breathes against his ear, trailing her manicured hand up his spine under his sweater. Her scent is thick with an uncensored sweetness and she stinks of wine. 

"He must be distant because of Mother's return. She never took kindly to his kind." Anna says offhandedly, turning her back to Dean; her scent flying past his nose as her wings shift dramatically. They're white; almost blindingly so whereas Castiel's are black. Maybe it has something to do with the drug? Anna's nails clink against the wind bottle as she grabs the neck of it. 

"When you get bored of him, tell me. I'll take good care of you, Omega." she purrs before walking out of the kitchen.

Dean's eyes roll far into the back of his head and he turns into the direction of his room.

It's true, him and Castiel haven't been on speaking terms since that night. It's not like Dean is particularly worried, Castiel isn't his main priority, Sam is. 

Dean kicks his door shut and it swings before clicking softly. He goes to make his way to the washroom but knocks his knee against the vanity in the darkness, letting out a stream of curses. He backs up until he hits the light switches and flinches back at the brightness. 

He walls back to the vanity and pulls the collected items out before flipping open the manilla folder. His fingers skim over the bolded red letters with a thoughtful frown. 

A drug connected to this family shouldn't be as surprising as Dean thinks it is but it reeks deceit and hate. To be able to get close enough to one of God's first children would mean that there's someone in the family who did this. 

Dean glares at the black, wilted feather that he took from Castiel's wings. If Dean picks it up again he's afraid it'll crack in his palms. The drug surely has to be eating away at him, he's been like this for how many months? Dean runs a frustrated hand through his hair and begins to pace back and forth. 

Sam found out something, that much is clear, maybe he found out who it was. The person has to be connected to the family; someone who's always in the house, who shows clear distaste for Castiel, who could destroy the family but come out on top. 

Lucifer? Anna? 

Gabriel is too much in his own world to even think about his family so he's out of the picture. 

Dean clasps his hands together at the back of his head and thinks back to the book that he read.

Eve has control over the Leviathans which mean she would have sent them here, why? Dean isn't sure on that part but what he does know is that someone noticeable, like a CEO of a industry, would be spreading the drug. If Eve is still in Purgatory then the Levi she sent here would be the leader of making the drug, right? 

Dean bounces a few big names in his head then comes to a halt. 

Richard Roman Enterprises. 

That must be the redacted name on the folder; Richard Roman, some dick billionaire that doesn't pay taxes. 

Sam was following him, that has to be it. Sam was following Dick outside the country, Castiel was out that exact same time visiting his family with their bodyguard, _what's her name?,_ Naomi.

Dean flops onto his bed with a huff and lets his eyes slip closed. 

Dean doesn't know what it is but something inside of him doesn't sit right.

* * *

"Row, row, row your boat gently down stream..." a voice sings off key. There's a rhythmic thud sounding on his floor, increasing in pace and so does the singing.

"Fuck off." he grumbles into his sheets. 

"You should get up, mama's coming home." Lucifer warns while walking pack and forth at the foot of Dean's bed; his cheeks stained red with dry tear tracks with his hands shaking by his sides. 

Dean turns his face to the side, only barely seeing Lucifer's figure at the end of the bed.

"Naomi?" he rasps, eyebrows pinched and eyes squinted as he tries to catch up.

"Yes, _Naomi!"_ he bites, scent spiking in irritation. He tugs at his hair. "It's her, it has to be. She–to _Sam–"_

At the drop of Sam's name, Dean is quick to sit up and get on his knees to crawl to the foot of the bed. "Hey, hey, what happened?" 

Lucifer sags against Dean. "New Zealand, she was there, she dotes after Castiel like a dog, I _know_ she did it. Sam is smart, smarter than me and he would never get caught by her," Lucifer spits before looking up at Dean with wide eyes. "I did research, called in favors, Leviathan Blossom–Sam must've ate something without knowing, it's—"

Dean pulls Lucifer into a tight hug. Lucifer's breath hiccups and his tears are hot against Dean's neck. "I can feel him calling for me, I can feel him dying and I don't know what to _do._ " Lucifer sobs, gripping the sleeves of Dean's sweater. 

"Crowley and Rowena, they run a Scottish pub downtown at a crossroads. Tell them I sent you and ask them what they know about Leviathan Blossom."

"But Naomi–"

"I will handle your mother." Dean promises. Lucifer sniffles wetly and nods before leaving the room. 

Dean scrubs at his face with his hand and a heavy sigh before getting out of bed. He manages to make it to the shower and put on his best attire which is his only pair of jeans that aren't ripped and his turtleneck with the least amount of tears. 

It's eerily quiet walking down to the living room; there's no clanging of pots from the kitchen, Charlie isn't arguing with her girlfriend over the phone, and Gabriel isn't filming porn, sorry, _erotica_ at the main entrance way. Dean shudders thinking about it; how did she get her leg to–Dean shakes his head firmly. 

The coldness of the tiled floors ground him so he can focus; there's this scent, it's heavy and gets stuck in the back of his throat like he's about to sick on the ground. It creates a pit in his stomach and reminds him of the days he spent in the hospital after the burn was placed. 

"Dean Winchester," a voice greets, full of false cheer and loud disgust, as Dean walks into the living space. A women, an plain Angel but an Alpha, with thin brown hair pulled back into a neat bun, not a strand out of place; her suit is tight yet Dean can tell she has full mobility and her eyes are just as empty as her smile. 

Charlie stands, eyes locked forward, next to where Naomi is sitting; her hands are clenched into fists and Dean can see her shaking just the tiniest bit.

Dean puts on an easy smile. "You must be Naomi!" he extends his hand once he reaches her. Her eyes flicker to his covered scar and it takes Dean all his will not to pull the fabric tighter around his neck. 

Naomi grips his hand firmly, just bordering on the line of pain. "Winchester," she says thoughtfully. "That name doesn't come around often, does it?" her eyes flicker between Dean's. Dean works his jaw, licks his lips and chuckles.

"Wouldn't find it in a google search." he jokes lightly and Naomi hums, tilting her head. 

"Wouldn't you?" she asks with a smile. Dean has to stop his nostrils from flaring. She stands up with a laugh. 

"I heard you're my son's mate." 

Dean frowns. Son? 

Naomi must notice it because she waves him off with a huff of laughter. "My apologies. I treat these kids as if they were my own. Castiel is a nephilim, you see and–" she stops herself with her hand on her chest. "Look at me, I'm rambling! How is Castiel doing? Have you two mated yet?" 

"He's good, great actually and no, we haven't." 

Naomi gives Dean a once over. "Well, no matter. Charlie, why don't you go get Castiel for us?" 

Charlie goes to open her mouth but Dean shoots her a look and her jaw clicks shut. After a firm nod, she turns sharply on her heels and begins in the direction of Castiel's room. 

Naomi walks around, looking at the fancy interior. "Winchester," she sighs. "Looks like I missed a dog." she turns her head to the side to look at Dean. "And here I thought I got all of them." 

Dean clenches his jaw. "You won't–" 

"What?" she laughs gleefully before her face turns serious. "I won't what? Get away with this? I _own_ these Angels, I've raised them like my flesh and blood and then _Castiel_ came along. A deviant in my plan for..." she shakes her head before walking over to Dean, her hands clasped behind her back. 

"I will get away with this, Dean Winchester, and I suggest you listen to me very carefully before you end up like your brother, Sam, wasn't it?" 

"You son of–" Dean begins only to reach a frantic hand to his throat with a cut off gasp. His nostrils flare and the invisible pressure on his throat begins to tighten. It's only when his vision gets blurry around the edges and he's collapsed to his knees that Naomi makes any movement.

She looks down at him, a sinister smile on her face and the smell of sulfur wafting off her like waves. Her eyes flash a familiar red and she nudges Dean's rib with the tip of her heel causing him to flinch back. 

She tilts her head in fake concern. "What's wrong, puppy? _Bark."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic that's like this; all angsty and murder, and mystery. I hope to actually get better at writing like this with time but for now, I hope you guys can put up with this trashy writing.


	6. Molotov Cocktail Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alt chap title: The Heartbreak Experience ( or Castiel is soft and sweet. )
> 
> Virgin Rut! Virgin Rut!
> 
> (I can't write sex scenes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry in advance.
> 
> POV jump because I can't write.
> 
> Not Beta'd.

Naomi's hand comes up behind her ear, using the pad of her finger to toy with the back of her earring as she looks down at the gasping Omega below her. 

It's such a pathetic sight to see, really; red faced with tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he continues to struggle with oxygen starvation. If she goes any longer there might even be brain damage and _that_ would be something to see.

This Omega is stubborn but there's nothing that she doesn't know about him; Raphael sent back a handful of useful information after following him. This boy would do anything for his brother.

She twists the back of her earring, squeezing the butterfly backs until they slip off easily, before dropping it on the floor next to an armchair, a few inches away from her, at Dean's knees. Once Dean's face goes from red to an alarming purple, she releases her grace's hold, a small uptick on her lips when Dean bends over to gasp for air. 

"...bitch." he rasps, rubbing at his throat. Naomi rolls tilts her head back, her eyes hooded as she looks down at Dean before she walks around the living room to admire the new artworks strung up on the walls. 

"I've been called worse." she muses, listening for the familiar sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. That Roman has called her plenty of ill-mannered obscenities during their work together. 

"Ms. Nov–Dean? Are you alright?" Naomi glances over her shoulder as the redhead steps closer to Dean. The Omega is still bent over, hands clenches by his knees as he controls his breathing.

Dean reaches over and grasps the small, gold supportive piece. "'M good, Charlie. Naomi's earring back slipped off."

_Predictable._

The Omega rises slowly, his knees wobbly and his eyes swollen from the tears that escaped his eyes. He steps over to Naomi, extending his hand to drop her jewelry into her open, awaiting palm. 

"Thank you. Where's Castiel?" Naomi asks as she puts the screw back on the earring. She has to see if that vampire gave him the daily dosage.

"He's...occupied." Red explains with a tight grimace on her features. Naomi frowns her eyebrows, turns around, and looks down her nose at the Beta.

"I–he's in rut, ma'am." 

Dean makes a sound in the back of his throat and Naomi steps forward, eyes wide and disbelieving. Castiel has never had a rut in his life. Naomi grits her teeth in frustration and takes a fleeting glance at Dean.

If there's a rut then they'll be a mating bite, despite the incomplete burn when Castiel goes to bond Dean might become fertile for twelve hours. 

Naomi smooths out the front of her suit.

"Dismissed." she waves the Beta away, watching as she scampers with shaky legs before she leans into Dean's space with a soft, demeaning whisper. 

"It would be odd for God's successor to be infertile, especially during a rut," she hooks two fingers into his turtleneck and tugs. "You should see Anna after taking care of Castiel." Naomi steps back with a small, insincere grin. "Your brother is getting better, isn't he?" 

And Naomi's heart skips a beat at the daunting fear that takes over Dean's features. This Omega really is a pretty pup; he reminds her of Jane and for a second, Naomi almost feels bad for killing that poor error. Castiel was so sad afterwards. Not that it matters much anymore since he'll be joining her soon.

"I take it we're in understanding?" 

Dean works his jaw and nods stiffly, his hands clenching and releasing by his sides. Naomi pats Dean's cheek before turning and leaving towards the front door. 

Dean's bottle lip wobbles and he exhales shakily when Naomi finally leaves, shutting the door with a horrifying sense of finality. Bile is resting at the back of his throat like it's its second home, his limbs feel weak and heavy, aching with a new set of discomfort. Dean thinks about leaving, about packing up with Sam in the back seat and leaving this dreadful town in his rearview mirror. He can't, not when Lucifer needs Sam just as much as he does, and not when Naomi could so easily kill them.

Naomi is a hunter, an terrifying analyst with no emotion and it reminds him so much of his father. How did she even know that the scar is incomplete?

Dean closes his eyes tightly, fisting the heels of his palms into them before taking a few deep breaths and forcing his lead-like limbs to Castiel's room. 

Dean's hand hovers over the sleek door handle and his jaw works once more and he sucks in a shaky breath. 

Mate, get him to sleep, then get pregnant by Anna. Everything about the plan makes Dean sick to his stomach. 

His fingers briefly come up to press at the cotton fabric covering the burn and a dull ache runs through him and grips at his bellybutton. He has to do this for Sam.

Dean grasps the handle gently before turning it and opening the door slowly. 

A growl, one filled with pain and suppressed longing, rings loudly in his ears.

_"'Mega. Mega–Omega."_

Dean shuffles inside awkwardly, eyeing the mess of clothes strewn on the floor along with torn sheets. The room is still dark, curtains drawn tight but there's a lone floor lamp turned on in the corner. It stinks of cum, sweat, and rain, so much so that Dean could drown in it. He can't see a lot but he can see the sweaty silhouette of Castiel's naked, sweaty body grinding frantically against the sheets; his wings twitch and jump with every movement and at points they'll spread and arch. They look boney, more fragile then he remembers.

Dean swallows, ears clicking as he does, and Castiel shifts and makes a low noise in the back of his throat before rolling his hips slowly against the damp mattress.

"Alpha," Dean exhales.

Castiel pauses, head tilting up from being buried in the pillows and scents openly. He rises slowly while a low growl begins in the back of his throat. Dean eyes drop between Castiel's chest to his cock and an orange hue shows the shiny column of Castiel's throat. Dean licks his lips nervously, slick making his thigh hairs damp, he tilts his head back invitingly.

_"Alpha."_

Castiel's legs are shaking when he rises, droplets of cum leak from his urethra onto the hardwood floor, and there's a definition on his thighs; muscle that makes it look like Castiel used to be a runner or a swimmer but that's not what Dean's paying attention too. It's the repetitive pulsing going from his thighs up to the dip and curve of his hips. Veins maybe? 

Castiel crowds Dean against the wood door, wings open and threatening as he invades Dean's space to scent openly at his neck while rutting against the rough fabric of his jeans. 

"Pretty puppy," Castiel grumbles into Dean's neck as he noses affectionately at his jaw and behind his ears. Castiel slides his hand underneath Dean's shirt only to grip the fabric from the inside and tug at it until it rips and the thread pushes it's limits until Dean is bare and flushed against the door.

It feels like he's underwater, with Castiel's scent washing over him like a tsunami; one that smells of rainwater and a thunderstorm.

Dean shuffles on his feet, his slick making an awkward noise between his closed thighs and Castiel huffs, agitated, before tugging down the fabric until it pools at Dean's feet. 

Castiel lowers himself down to his knees, snaking his hands behind Dean's thighs to grab and kneed roughly at his boxer-clad ass. He tilts his head upwards and grazes his nose against Dean's coarse thigh hairs, not caring that slick is slides down the corners of his nose. Dean bites his lip and runs his hand through Castiel's hair; there's a heated pit in his stomach, one sits and boils at his core that makes him feel nauseous and has tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Omega-mine." Castiel sighs, nuzzling at the damp area before laying his tongue flat against the material and lapping at it hungrily. Slick coats the corners of his mouth and the top of his upper lip and Dean's eyes flutter as he sucks in a sharp breath, leaning back and knocking his head back against the wood as he rocks against Castiel's tongue.

Castiel pulls back, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed with a line of saliva and slick from Dean's boxers connecting to his lips. He looks up at Dean with doe eyes, roaming over his body appreciatively before standing to grab Dean's hand and drag him to the bed. Dean stumbles to step out of his jeans and allow himself to be dragged to the large bed. 

Castiel hooks his hands underneath Dean's armpits before picking him up and gently laying him down on the soft mattress, making soft humming noises in the back of his throat. Castiel crawls onto the damp mattress afterwards, a knee coming between Dean's thighs, getting wet in the slick dripping out of Dean but he ignores it in favor of rocking his cock against Dean's thigh.

Dean raises his arms to wrap around Castiel's neck, bringing him down for a chase kiss on the lips; Dean coax Castiel's mouth open to nip and lick into his mouth, wrapping his tongue messily around Castiel's. Castiel shifts, his knees coming up beside Dean's hips and rests Dean's thighs over his own before he grinds his erection against Dean's. 

They swallow down each other's moans before Castiel pulls away only to lick and nip at Dean's bottom lip affectionately. 

"Smell so good Dean." Castiel whispers, leaning forward to press their lips together again. Dean gently feels along Castiel's back, eyebrows twitching in confusion at the movement he feels underneath is fingertips. It feels like a vein; one you might feel on your hand when you stress it for too long and it's _moving._ Squirming and pulsating at the beat of Castiel's heartbeat. Dean runs his hands down to Castiel's hips, feeling the same thin bulge as before. 

Castiel licks the sides of Dean's mouth and along the bottom of his teeth before pulling back but not without small pecks to Dean's lips.

"What do I do?" Castiel ruts his cock against Dean's hips, his knot hot from where it pulses in the middle of them. Castiel makes a curious noise when Dean slips his hand between their bodies to touch tentatively at his leaking hole.

"Put your fingers where mine are." 

Castiel looks down between them and brushes his knuckles against the inside of Dean's thighs before he presses his index finger next to the other. Dean sucks in his bottom lip and presses the pad of Castiel's finger against his hole before pushing it in slowly, signing at the pressure.

"Good?" Castiel questions curiously as he twists and wiggles the digit.

"Yeah, yeah, 's good Alpha. Put another." Castiel looks up at Dean for a second, hesitating to push in his middle finger but doing it with a softness that makes Dean want to hurl. Castiel is careful, like Dean is a piece of glass he's afraid of breaking despite being in rut. He should be acting like an animal. Dean's nose scrunches and he lets out a hiss when Castiel jabs clumsily inside of him.

"Careful." he hisses before biting his lip and bucking his hips when Castiel scissors his fingers, one of them pressing down teasingly on his prostate.

"Wanna knot you, Omega." Castiel mumbles, watching as Dean's hole spreads obscenely when he widens his fingers against the wet walls. Stings of slick drip from the opening and Castiel wants to be covered in Dean's scent. 

"Yeah? Gonna make me feel good, Alpha?" Dean purrs as he scoots back to have enough space so he can turn out and bury his face in the mountain of pillows with his ass up. Dean's inhales the thick scent hidden in the cushions and feels himself relax; his back lowers a bit more, his shoulders slump, and he can feel his hole loosen. Dean brings a hand behind himself to hold open on of his cheeks.

"Line yourself up then push in. Careful when your knot pops and ease into it." Dean instructs. That's the gist of what they're doing, right? 

Castiel bites the inside of his cheek nervously but comes up behind Dean and carefully nudges his tip against Dean's hole, eyes going wide when Dean pushes back against it.

"Hurry up." Dean bites turning his face to the side and fisting the pillows underneath is head. Castiel whines, instinct making him push his hips forward but his cock slips between Dean's cheeks and Castiel shivers, thrusting jerkily. He lets out a few fevered gasps as he balls draw up and his wings flap.

Dean clenches his rim subconsciously, toes curling at Castiel's cock sliding back and forth against his heat. He reaches back to push and nudge Castiel's cock down to his hole again and holds it steady. Castiel looks down and pushes his hips forward slowly, watching enraptured at the sight of Dean's hole swallowing his cock. Castiel leans forward and drops his forehead on Dean's sweaty and heated back. 

"Alpha?" Dean rasps.

"I-it's hot inside, Dean." Castiel groans lowly, mouthing at Dean's skin, his cock jumping inside of Dean as he slides another inch into his Omega's heat. Castiel's skin feels itchy, his toes are curling, his wings are spasming, and tears won't step falling from his eyes and down his cheeks. 

He feels so overwhelmed.

Castiel stills, glancing at the side of Dean's face to see if he's doing it right but a sharp pain, one that starts at his heart and radiates throughout his body when he notices a few stray tears coming from Dean's eyes. Castiel reaches over to put both of his hands beside Dean's head, looms over him, and noses at Dean's scent gland while inching the rest of his cock inside the tight heat. 

Is he doing it wrong?

Castiel nips at the burn, grumbling and growling as he slides in and out of Dean, long strings of slick becoming squished between their skin. Castiel gently brings a hand to Dean's hip, leaning back on his calves and pulling Dean with him to sit on his cock. 

"Alpha!" Dean keens, thighs tensing and eyes rolling at the back of his head at the feeling of fullness. Castiel grabs a handful of Dean's ass and leans back to watch his dick become swallowed by Dean's hole and slick slide down his shaft. Castiel shifts closer, pressing his chest against Dean's back, and sucks love bites onto his shoulder while letting his hands trail up Dean's sides and to his nipples, using his nail to press and flick at them. Dean gasps, arching his chest into Castiel's hand and brings a hand down to fist at his neglected dick. 

Dean leans his head back until it rests on Castiel's shoulder and his back is bent awkwardly as Castiel's cock stretches him. Dean curls his toes when Castiel pinches his nipples which have gone raw from the abuse. He thumbs roughly at his urethra, sliding the pre-cum down his bade as he uses his other hand to grip and tug at his balls.

"Alpha!" Dean cries, cursing when his balls start to draw up.

"Omega– _Dean!"_ Castiel hisses, his knot throbbing and his wings arching as a another orgasm washes over him, coating below Dean's balls and sliding down into his hole. Castiel mouths messily at the burn as he continues to come, a low growl makes its way out of his throat, Dean always tastes and smells so good here. Castiel fucks into Dean lazily, milking out his orgasm before using his thumbs to spread Dean hole and knocks his knot against Dean's hole until it eases inside. Once his knot is safely locked inside, Castiel licks the scared flesh before pressing soft kisses then carefully biting down on it.

Dean flinches at the bite, his cock throbbing in his hands as cum dribbles out of the tip, grimacing at the rush of pain that he gets but it soon relaxes into a dull sensation that settles at the bottom of his gut.

"Bite, Omega?" Castiel leans forward just until his jaw is in line with Dean's vision and Dean swallows nervously. It's in his contract anyway, he might as well get it over with. Dean strains his neck to lick underneath Castiel's jaw and bite just above his scent gland.

The bond shouldn't take with the bite so high but Castiel preens happily, his scent one of a summer downpour. Castiel moves them, cautious of his knot, and rests them on their sides with his arm wrapped around Dean's middle, attentively licking at his new mating bond. 

"Gonna have my pup." Castiel mutters behind Dean and Dean's hands twitch in an abandoned movement to touch his stomach. He holds back a bitter laugh and nods. 

"Your pup." he repeats. 

Castiel continues to lick Dean's neck until his movements grow sloppy and sleepy. He tightens his arm around Dean. 

"Glad you're my Omega." he whispers, frowning when Dean tenses and his scent dulls into one of annoyance. 

He chooses to ignore the painful swell in his heart when Dean doesn't respond. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe he did bad.

Dean isn't sure how long he stays lying there staring at a picture across from him that sits on Castiel's dresser. Maybe it's been thirty minutes or maybe an hour but Castiel's knot has deflated and his cum dribbles out of Dean's hole and onto the sheets. 

Something twinges painfully inside of him when he shuffles out of Castiel's arms. He feels guilty for leaving Castiel alone but it's not like the Angel needs him around. 

Besides, Dean has more important things to worry about. 

He shimmies on his boxers and pats the floor to find a shirt, most likely Castiel's, thrown on the floor and he pulls it on. Dean looks back on Castiel's sleeping silhouette before opening the door quietly and sneaking out. 

He's only two steps into his own room when the smell of sweetened roses hit his nose and a pair of breasts push up against his back. 

Anna's hand brushes against his stomach and glows a blinding blue before it settles. She licks the shell of his ear and whispers quietly. 

"I think our pups will be much cuter. Don't you?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart hurts writing this.
> 
> Incomplete Burning: a punishment that I made up that is essentially used for a mated pair when one or both are suspected of a crime. The burning of the mating bond kills the burned and leaves the other alone until they eventually kill themselves. John did this with the intent of making Dean feel suicidal and dependent on him since John did imprint on him as his Alpha since that's his dad.


	7. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difference between pent up anger and sadness is a line that shouldn't be so thin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mental health has taken a huge toll on me. I'm sorry, I hope you guys can forgive me!
> 
> Not edited.

Dean knows what it means to be sorry.

He remembers the feeling deep in his guts when John had just too much alcohol in his system; felt it in the many bruises and cuts that he was decorated with

Sadness goes hand in hand with guilt most often than not, he realizes; that the two are attached to the hip and guilt hammers inside his damaged brain because maybe he forgot to wash the dishes after John told him too. 

Dean thinks the feeling most close to describe his being sorry is a dark cave; a cave that has water dripping of its hanging rocks and falling onto a bottomless pit that Dean is too afraid to look down at. It's a sinking feeling that even though he won't look down the darkness in front of him will swallow him hole. That rhythmic _drip, drip, drip_ of the water will eventually stop and he'll be alone. 

He'll be sorry for not appreciating the noise and only focusing on the ddarkness then guilty for not appreciating the nose sooner

There's a sickening amount of bile resting behind his uvula as he thinks about it.

"Omega?" Castiel pats the damp rag under Dean's armpits gently and Dean answers with a low groan in the back of his throat.

The insides of his legs are sensitive due to the purple and red hickeys sucked onto them and his nipples are so sore that if he puts on a shirt he might cry. His scent gland his throbbing and lazily oozing small streaks of blood onto the soft pillow case below him. All the hair on his body is stuck to his skin because of sweat; his hole is swollen, he thinks, when he clenches it feels raw and a shot of arousal and pain make his cock twitch; cum has been rubbed onto every inch of his damp skin.

Soft hands gently open his thighs and the warm, damp cloth cleans the cum dribbling out of his swollen rim. His toes curl, his face contorts into one of pain, and he hisses lightly. 

"I'm sorry, Omega." Castiel whispers quietly, shame emitting from him like a broken fire hydrant. Dean makes a weak sound as his thighs twitch due to sensitivity.

"S'okay. Kiss?" Dean's throat feels like sandpaper and his heart twists when Castiel leans forward and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Dean's lips with a happy hum.

It's fate's fault. Or destiny, or whatever people call it these days. Dean hasn't had a heat since he was in his teens and those don't compare to the one he's going through right now. It's different, of course, Castiel is taking care of him which makes his heart squeeze tight in his chest.

Castiel is delicate despite having the teeth of a vampire and the libido of a Incubus, he likes to whisper sweet things in Dean's hear while Dean is milking his cock for the tenth time that night, and he likes to kiss Dean by kissing the corners of his lips before licking his way into Dean's mouth.

Anna is rough. She doesn't kiss or leave marks. She doesn't waste time on prep and is loud in bed. Anna treats Dean like a job where Castiel treats him like a lover. A mate. 

That might be why his heart hurts; he knows he doesn't deserve Castiel.

Castiel laps lovingly at his scent gland. "Is there something I can do?" 

Dean blinks his eyes open, grateful for the never ending darkness in Castiel's room. "Water?" he clears his throat and coughs for emphasis. 

"Of course." Castiel presses a lingering kiss on his temple before leaving the room. Dean watches him and idly brings a hand to his stomach. 

He wants it to be Castiel's. He wants the baby to have blue eyes and a hobby for reading. He wants to see their gummy grin and their tears and their laugh. 

Somewhere in his mind he knows he's not only talking about the baby.

"Omega?" Castiel calls, concerned and Dean sniffles, he opens his mouth but closes it with an audible click and swallows. He sucks in a shaky breath. 

"Hold me, please?" his voice cracks. Dean shifts to the side to give Castiel space. 

Castiel carefully crawls into their bed and drapes arm loosely over Dean's waist. His eyes flicker along Dean's face, observing. 

Dean stares straightforward, playing his Castiel's fingers. "What would you name the baby?" 

Castiel eyes widen momentarily before his face goes blank and he thumbs absently at Dean's waist. "It's up to you." 

Dean turns his head and locks eyes with Castiel. "It's your baby too." 

He thinks. He hopes. He's sorry. 

Castiel's thumb pauses for a second before it resumes again. "If it's a girl maybe Jane, after my sister." 

Something in the way Castiel says it makes Dean's stomach churn uncomfortably. The side of Castiel's mouth ticks upwards sadly at Dean's shift in emotions. 

"We only had each other, yes Anna, Gabriel, and Lucifer were there but they weren't like us. We were all we had." Castiel tightens his grip around Dean's waist. 

"Can I asked what happened?" Dean whispers, fearing that if he speaks up he'll break the moment. 

"Metatron, an old prophet that Father trusted. Naomi was there when Jane was killed and told me what happened, that's when she got overprotective. Metatron called us abominations. Embodiments of sin." Castiel's voice wavers, his scent, one that smells of rain on thick pavement, molds into the sicking salt of the ocean. 

Dean leans his head forward awkwardly and touches his forehead down on Castiel's. "I'm sorry." 

"I don't want our baby to feel as if they don't belong." 

"They won't." Dean promises.

Castiel's hand slides over his belly and Dean wants this feeling, this overwhelming nausea and panic, to go away. 

_I could see it_ , he wants to say. _Us. Me falling in love with you, us falling in love with each other._

A soft knock on the door has Dean biting back the words and turning his head so he can stare back up at the ceiling. 

"Castiel?" Benny calls, tapping his knuckles against the expensive wood once more before Castiel lets out a throaty hum and Benny knocks his foot against the bottom of the door a couple times before it opens; a sliver of light streaking in the dark room.

"Brought the regular–" Benny pauses, looking between Castiel and Dean, eyeing the Omega carefully. In his hand, he holds a plate with a burger and and fries and despite the heavy aroma of sautéed beef and melted cheese, something inside of it makes Dean lip curl.

Dean makes move to get up from the bed but Castiel reaches out to grasp his arm quickly 

"Where are you going?" Castiel asks. Dean clenches his jaw and fights the reflex to yank his arm out of Castiel's grip. Castiel's eyes flicker down and he drops Dean's arm. 

"'S the smell." Dean explains, reaching for his boxers which were thrown haphazardly over the side of the bed. "Didn't know Angels needed to eat." 

"Naomi suggests eating human food might help with my energy." Castiel explains, a dismissive tone to his voice. Dean's eyebrows twitches downward and he leans forward to scent Castiel's shoulder. 

They have the same smell.

"Right." Dean doubts with a frown. He tugs on his boxers and pats around for a shirt; it feels softer than his own shirts and his Omega purrs at the thought of adding it to their nest. Dean tugs it over his head. 

"Omega—" 

"You need your energy right? When you're done you know where to find me." Dean shrugs, glancing at Benny another time before slipping through the door, shutting it behind him. He takes a second to breathe then pushes off the door and makes his way to his own room.

"She's an Intelligence Angel." Lucifer says, looking out the window, as soon as Dean opens the door. Lucifer turns around, glances down at Dean's stomach, back up, then frowns.

"You're carrying Castiel's child, my condolences." 

Dean rubs his eyes and exhales. "That's not—what?" 

Lucifer rolls his eyes. "The grace in your stomach is bright like Castiel's. It'll be hard having a nephilim."

It—what? 

Dean opens his mouth but Lucifer tsk's dismissively. "Naomi is an Intelligence Angel. She has access to information on every being in Heaven which means she isn't the one giving the orders but providing information." 

"And Crowley told you all of this?" Dean walks over to his bed and falls on his back. 

"I said he could sit on the throne in Hell. Obviously that was a lie but he gave me what I needed." 

"Benny's giving it to Castiel through food. He brought it in and it had the same smell." 

"Benny's in on it? I've always wondered what Vampire tasted like."

Dean glances at Lucifer. "He doesn't seem like the type to do it willingly." 

"Blackmail?" 

Dean hums in agreements.

"We have to stop Castiel from eating it." Lucifer turns sharply, making a beeline for the door.

"We can't." Dean blinks at Lucifer lazily. "Naomi will know something's up." 

"We can't just let him eat that garbage!" Lucifer yells causing the lights around them to flicker dangerously.

"Casualties happen!" Dean bites back.

"You have his child inside of you! How can you be so—" 

"It might not even be his!" Dean covers his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "It might not be Castiel's." 

"You really," Lucifer laughs, one filled with pain and bitterness. "It always has to be you and Sam. You'd even let my family die for your bond." 

Dean clenches his jaw but doesn't speak up. It's true what Lucifer says. Dean would do anything for his little brother, and if people died in the process, so be it.

"I'm sorry." Dean snaps, frowning his eyebrows as tension piles on his shoulders. The bed dips with added weight and Lucifer glances at Dean. 

"Why did he love you for so long?" 

"The fuck are you on about?" Dean lowers his elbow to glare at Lucifer, who shakes his head and lowers his towering wings. 

"I'll talk to Benny. You should talk to Charlie, she's good with computers, maybe find some stuff on where he was." Lucifer instructs despite making no move to get up. 

"Luci?" Dean asks the ceiling. Lucifer turns his head. 

"I really am sorry." Lucifer plays with the ring on his finger. 

"Lying doesn't suit you, Winchester." he says with a kind pat on Dean's knee before rising. "That grace has Castiel written all over it. If you don't—" Lucifer scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "I know people who specialize in nephlim abortions. You don't have to have the baby." 

Dean swallows down the lump in his throat. "I signed the contract, right?" he jokes.

Lucifer's lip tick upward sadly and nods his head before exiting the room, shutting the door with a soft click. 

Dean's hand absently drifts down to his belly and he strokes his thumb over it lovingly. 

"Castiel will l-love you, little Jane." Dean whispers tearfully. 

Fear and sadness are two very different things, Dean now realizes. 


	8. Let's Go To Purgatory Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not doing this for Castiel. I'm doing it for Sam."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking and I don't think sex scenes really fit in this story. I will be taking out some tags related to anything sexual. ( there will be some near the end of the story though )
> 
> bc this chapter is short, i actually have part two half way done so it can be posted sooner!
> 
> this chapter was posted at 3am and is not edited

It's a little over eleven pm, the house is eerily quiet and Lucifer is biting his thumb nail while looking down at the floor, deep in thought. 

Dean puts his leather jacket over his two thin flannels with a grimace, sweat prickles the backs of his thighs and under his armpits and the burn on his neck throbs. 

A heart stuttering knock on the door has Dean looking sharply at Lucifer with a questioning gaze. Lucifer nods his head once and Dean takes a steadying breath before opening the door.

"It's not like you to call on us like this, Luci." Gabriel points out, hooking an arm over Lucifer's neck and slouching on him. Lucifer grits his teeth and crosses his arms. Charlie stifles her laugh and smiles at Dean. "Congrats on the baby, Dean." 

Dean gives her a half hearted smile while quietly closing the door. "Thanks for coming." 

Gabriel eyes Dean wearily. "What's up? I've never been this scared since dad found up my porno got leaked." he chuckles, nudging Lucifer's side with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Where's Anna?" 

Dean steps forward and takes a deep breath. "We have reason to believe Naomi is giving Castiel Leviathan Blossom. She's probably working with someone to distribute it, have more people under their control and if Castiel's dies—" 

"Slow your roll Dean-o! Death?" Gabriel scoffs looking doubtfully between Lucifer and Dean. 

"Do you really think Naomi would do that?" Charlie speaks up, lips pulled in a concerned frown. 

Lucifer lets out a huff and pushes himself out of Gabriel's grip. "She's been doing it right under our noses! We have to put her down—"

"What? Like a dog?" Gabriel huffs out a disbelieving laugh. "Let's say Naomi did want to," Gabriel waves his hand, demonstrating what Dean said previously. "Why would she do that to us? To Cas? Do you think Anna is in on it too?"

"Anna is in on it." Dean bites in frustration before running a hand through his hair. "She probably wants to take Castiel's place. If someone takes God's place, they get his powers right?" Dean gusses. 

"Only Nephlim's can get Father's power, regular Angel's like Naomi wouldn't be able to." Lucifer dismisses.

"Not if Father does it willingly." Gabriel says. At the silence following his statement, he continues. "Lucifer isn't able to get it, I don't want it, Michael doesn't want any part of it, Castiel was basically forced with this, if he says he doesn't want to do it anymore then Father would go to his next trusted which would be—"

"Naomi." Dean finishes and Gabriel nods approvingly. Dean sucks in his bottom lip and blinks up at the ceiling. 

"She's using Leviathan to weaken him, feeding him it, how will she use it to make him step down?" Dean presses his lips together.

"What about mind control?" Charlie wonders. The three glance at her questiongly and Charlie rolls her eyes. "Leviathan Blossom limits Angel Grace to almost nothing until the only person who can use it is the person supplying it so if she gives him enough, considering how powerful he is, she'll be able to control him." 

Dean thinks back on the book that he read weeks ago and licks his lips, hesitant to speak the thought.

"How do you know all this, Red?" Lucifer asks and Charlie quirks her eyebrow. "You think me and Meg just scissor all day?" 

"That'll be a sight. More of a frottage guy myself." Gabriel snickers and winks. 

"Perv." Charlie mutters under her breath, pushing away Gabriel by his shoulder.

"No way she's doing all of this free of charge." Dean shakes his head, biting at his thumb nail. "Leviathan Blossom is in Purgatory, she would've had to make a deal or something." 

"Eve. She would've talked to Eve." Lucifer clenches his fists. "We have to talk to her."

"Go? Where? Like to Purgatory?" Gabriel says incredulously.

"We can talk to Eve!" Lucifer snaps, a few light bulbs break under his pressure.

Dean shoots a curious glance at Lucifer, an angry wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. Does he really want to see Eve again? 

"I can get us there." Charlie says determinedly and Gabriel gapes at the three.

"You're going along with this?" he asks Charlie, who shrugs her shoulders.

"Would they really lie about this? If Castiel really is dying and we," Charlie looks down. "if we ignore this, wouldn’t we be the reason he dies as well?" 

Gabriel opens his mouth then sighs and rubs his eyes in frustration. "I can open the rift. It'll take a lot out of me and I can only have it open for five minutes but I'll do it." 

Dean stares wide eyed at Gabriel. "Seriously?" 

"My baby brother is dying, what else–" Gabriel coughs and sniffles, rolling back his shoulders and standing tall. "If I can help him then I will. But we can't do it here." 

Not even a heartbeat later, the four of them are teleported into a luxurious hotel room; bright light shines through the many windows, the furniture looks plush and too neat to sit on and everything has an unnecessary dash of gold to it, on the door handles, the arms and legs or the chairs, and even the rim around the fireplace.

Charlie curses, stumbling on her feet and Dean steadies her with a grip on her shoulder. 

"Where are we?" 

"My humble abode, I go here to talk with God's about the fine things in life." Gabriel spouts lazily with a bored shrug of his shoulders. "Naomi and Anna won't find us here." 

"What about–" 

"He's already here. Sleeping." Gabriel jerks his head towards room hidden behind beautifully made white doors. "This place is warded to the bone but opening up a rift gives off signals, it has to be an in and out type deal. I can erase our scents for a bit of time too."

"I need a weapon. Machetes or a gun." Dean lists.

"A gun would draw too much attention." Charlie dismisses. 

Gabriel snaps his fingers once more with an over exaggerated huff and a machete cranks noisily on the coffee table. 

"Go over the plan again." Lucifer orders, twisting his engagement ring. 

"Gabriel will open the rift to Purgatory. Lucifer and I will track down Eve and hopefully get something out of her. Charlie, I hear you're good with computers?" 

Charlie grins. "Best in the business." 

"See if you can find more information on Castiel's and Naomi's trip to New Zealand. There's a database, HuntersCorp, my brother was there the same time was they were, his trip should be logged there." 

"You got it." she nods her head firmly. 

"Remember, in and out, no looking longer than you have to and don't die." Gabriel lists before looking between the two and holding up his hand, ready to snap his fingers. 

"Ready?" he asks. 

Dean picks up the machete and Lucifer squares his shoulders.

"Let's go to Purgatory." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consider supporting me on ko-fi:  
> ko-fi.com/tiramisucreates
> 
> I update my progress and even make sims 4 custom content. 
> 
> support is optional, you can yell at me to update instead.


	9. Purgatory Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When this is all over, will you leave him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates happening once a week (I'm trying, pls be patient)

Suffocating and cold like the definition of loneliness, Dean would say, that's what they step into. It's surprisingly quiet which Dean imagines he should've suspected with no animals, no life, keeping the place noisy. There's also an uncomfortable warmth that spreads from the top of his spine down to the pits of his stomach. Behind them is a sliver of gold light, dancing in its own space, a start contrast to the bleak, soul churning darkness.

Dean feels sick to his stomach.

"You alright?" Lucifer claps him on the back, jolting Dean from his stupor. Dean looks down at the bleak, dead leaves and dying trees and swallows down the disgusting amount of bile rising in his throat.

"'M fine." Dean shrugs off the uneasy feeling with a façade of nonchalance. His fingers tighten around the grip of the machete and his body tightens, prepared for anything to happen. 

"There should be a river around here." Lucifer mutters under his breath, taking a second to flicker his eyes at the monotone scenery around him before walking straight forward. 

The daunting sounds of leaves being crushed underneath their heavy shoes makes Dean's jaw work and heart beat anxiously. "What did Benny say when you talked to him yesterday?" 

Lucifer shoves his hands in his pockets. " I couldn't find him so I looked through his stuff. Apparently he was married to this woman, on the back of an old polaroid it said Andrea. I guess he outlived her and Naomi promised to bring her back." 

Dean raises his eyebrows as he casts a fleeting glance around him. "I'm guessing she can't do that?" 

"It'll disturb the balance. If someone's taken out of Heaven, Father will know. She'll probably kill him after she's done with him anyway and he'll end up here." Lucifer stops in his tracks and arches his wings in warning, their towering presence makes Dean think about Castiel's own. Do they still tower like Lucifer's? What colour are they? How weak do they look now?

Dean frowns his eyebrows and mentally shakes his head. "What's up?"

"Nothing to worry about just yet, Let's keep going." Lucifer instructs. Dean follows closely behind Lucifer, clenching his jaw rhythmically, on edge. As they walk, Lucifer's wings twitch and flap, causing leaves to fly around them and low branches on trees to shake. 

"Dude," Dean pulls on one of Lucifer's feathers causing the other to hiss and turn around sharply. Lucifer's are pointed into a glare and his jaw is clenched.

"What?" he snaps.

"There a problem?" Dean raises an eyebrow and Lucifer clenches his fists. 

"My fiancé and my brother are dying, of course there's a problem!" Lucifer shouts. 

"Look! I get it—" 

"You don't! You don't get it!" Lucifer snaps, fisting at his hair. "I'm lost without Sam. He always supported me, always. Despite us both being Omegas, he still accepted my courting. He accepted me and my shitty addiction and, and now—" Lucifer lets out a teary laugh. "He's gonna die. And my brother, my little brother who I never gave the fucking time of day to, is going to be gone soon. So no, you don't get it." 

Dean opens his mouth then closes it with a tight frown. Lucifer clenches his fists and turns around again, walking in the same unwavering path without looking back. Dean follows. 

By the time Dean hears it, the serene flow of water, his legs are burning and his hand has gone white from the grip he has on his weapon, and he's only realized now just how parched his throat is. Lucifer's back stands a little taller as they near the steady burble. They truck their weak legs and tense atmosphere to the water; it's color taken from the depths of the deepest ocean. Lucifer stares at it for a bit. 

"When this is all over, when we cure them, will you leave him with the child?" Lucifer asks in a pained whisper, like the thought of Castiel being alone somehow now matters to him. 

Dean stares down the moss colored rocks. "I just need to provide him a heir. The contract didn't say I had to love him or stay." 

Lucifer looks up and into the distance. "I think he knows," his eyes flicker to Dean. "that he's dying. I think he knows." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Castiel is smart, practical. But lonely, it makes him overly aware of himself. Of his grace and how much light he has." Lucifer's eyes get watery and he shakes his head and begins to walk the down the river. 

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dean frowns in confusion.

"He most likely knows you don't love him. Castiel would never accept a contract companion if he knew he was fine." Lucifer mutters before looking up to the sky.

"It's getting dark, well, darker. We should find somewhere to lie low for a little." 

A resonating howl speaks to the entire forest and Dean bites the inside of his cheek nervously. 

Eventually, they come across a small cave, there's nothing memorable about it but a shiver runs down Dean's body nonetheless. Dean sits down on the dry floor with a huff, setting his machete next to him and Lucifer sits across from him.

"Leave him." Lucifer says after the tense silence washes over them. "Leave him with the baby and don't return. You never wanted this anyway right? When Sam is better, you'll leave again."

Dean's hand flies to his stomach subconsciously and a dangerous well of tears cloud his vision. 

"It was always Castiel's fate to be alone, Father told us himself before he put himself to bed. He doesn't need you, he doesn't need us. Can you promise me that?" 

Crunching leaves can be heard in the distance, along with the intimating snarl and growl and sniff of the air.

Dean blinks and looks down. "Yeah. Whatever." 

Lucifer turns his head to the side and stares at the dry outside. "A few miles past the lake, there should be Blossoms." 

"Why do you want to see Eve so badly?" 

Lucifer smiles a little bit. "When I was in recovery I came to see her, I remember in the Garden of Eden, she was nice. She was kind like I imagine a mom would be. After Father banished her, the time I got to see her was less and less. I want to know what changed. Why she's doing this." Lucifer leans forward to stand up and stretches his arms over his head. 

Dean rises in turn, picking up his machete and rolling his shoulders back. 

"Let's go." 

It's easier than Dean expected. Walking, he means. It's dark and his heart is about to burst out of his chest but he was born to hunt monsters. Any noise or hitch of the breath that Dean hears, he can know almost instantly where monster will be. Years of training taught him that. 

His hands are covered in blood and the grip that he has on the handle of his weapon is enough to make his hand go numb. There's a bit of splatter on his cheeks and the side of his lips but there's blood rushing to his ears and his legs are shaking from the adrenaline so he's not really worried about it. Lucifer is in a simular state but hasn't talked since the first beast attacked them. 

"I don't have a lot of energy left." Lucifer rasps, clenching his hand. "If we get caught, I can't get us out." 

"It'll be fine." Dean pats Lucifer of the shoulder and nods his head forward. "Those the blossoms?" 

They're ugly, Dean tilts his head. They look like dog dicks growing out of a old sack. 

Lucifer walks over and bends down to eye it closely. 

And maybe it's because he's distracted that he doesn't hear it. He doesn't here an extra pair of feet come up behind him and by the time Lucifer turns around to warn him. Dean is knocked out cold, blood soaked machete clattering to the dead ground. 

* * *

Dean doesn't open his eyes right away when he comes back around. He gauges for a brief moment his state; his arms are tied behind his back, there's a wetness trickling down the base of his neck which is most likely blood, and he knows if he opens his eyes his vision will swim with false colors and warbled images of the things in front of him.

"Dean Winchester." a voice coos. "To think that The Righteous Man is here and with Luci in tow. It must be my lucky day." they boast happily. 

"Omegas are so rare down here and now we have two." they continue. 

"Let him go, Eve." Lucifer demands and it's only then that Dean takes a sharp inhale and blinks his eyes open. He can only see the back of a someone in a long white dress but he can see Lucifer's face, see his sad, angry eyes. Dean wonders if he looks like that. Dean notices from the corner of his eyes that six monsters are lined up, standing straight as if they were serving their own vision of God. 

"A mother never lets go of her children, you know that." Eve pinches Lucifer's cheek. "Have you gotten weaker?" she eyes him curiously and Lucifer looks away. Eve turns, her long dress flying behind her, and stares down at Dean who stares back, defiant and ready for a fight. 

"I assume you two didn't come to visit?" 

"What is Leviathan Blossom doing on Earth?" Dean bites out. 

"Oh. That?" Eve taps her chin before a cruel smile takes over her features. "So me and my children can rule the world." 

"Why? You have an entire–" Lucifer cuts off at Eve's slow glace towards him. 

"I have an entire what? Place to myself? I was forced here and had to be released by dragons. Even though I'm the mother of the creatures you all hate, I could never see them. I want to see my children, is that so bad?" 

"There are other ways." Dean catches her attention. 

"What? Like groveling? 'Oh please, God, let me touch the grass in the Earth again. I'll be good.'" Eve's voice goes even higher as she mimics her pleading. "I am sick of being stuck here! I want to roam!" Eve bellows, extending her arms and looking up towards the sky. The ground shakes and even her subordinates stumble a little. 

"Do you really think Naomi will set you free?" Dean continues. "When she's done with you and takes over the position of God, do you think she'll release you?" 

Eve lowers her arms slowly and steps closer to Dean until her feet almost touch his, then looks down at him, murder swimming in her eyes. 

"She plans to do _what?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consjder supporting me on ko-fi
> 
> ko-fi.com/tiramisucreates


	11. Back At It Again || Thank you!

Hello!!! 

I want to thank all of you for your kind words and encouragement and hugs and kisses. I deeply appreciate each message I recieved. 

I'm feeling considerably better and have started writing again and wanted to update you guys on how I should start updating. 

I am going to start trying once a week for Hypersexuality and once every other week for LB since it takes more time to write that one. And then I want to do two times a week and two times every other week. If that makes sense.

I hope all of you will stick with me on this and I am extremely grateful for all of you! 


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